


Natsu and Salamander

by juggernaught



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Agent, Alternate Universe - Police, Arson, Crimes & Criminals, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggernaught/pseuds/juggernaught
Summary: Officer Dragneel notices something is up with his coworkers one day, or more specifically how they act around him, but ignores it in favor of an unusually good chase, an admittedly sexy blonde woman. His biggest surprise comes when she slaps cuffs on his wrists and reveals HE was the catch of the day.





	1. i

Officer Natsu Dragneel was faced with the biggest crime of the day and he was _not_ prepared. The other officers had decided that due to a woeful turn of events, they had had their metallic testicles removed, therefore delegating Natsu with the foreboding task ahead of him. Still, his dad (a.k.a. the greatest man in the world!) had taught him never to back down from a challenge, and so he raised his head high, straightened his back, and said the words that would surely mark his tombstone:

“Sorry, Lieutenant Scarlet, b-but someone ate your strawberry donut.”

Yes, it was a slow work day . . . so what?

“What,” Erza said flatly from behind her desk, raising her head from the menial paperwork that even she had been given. “I believe I misheard you, Dragneel.”

“Um, I said that someone ate your d-donut.” Internally Natsu was writing his will, trying to bequeath his meager possessions to his cat and ensure that Gray Fullbuster wouldn’t be able to step three feet onto his plot. She stood and slowly walked towards him, the badges on her ample chest gleaming in her office’s light. He swallowed and leaned back as she got in his face, her dark eyes scanning his expression, and he feared that she was committing it to memory as her next casualty. Then, all too soon, she pulled away, a loose lock of red hair smacking him in the cheek as she did so.

“That’s a pity,” was all she said. She was awfully stiff as she rebuffed him too, which completely threw him off. Erza had no reason to restrain herself and took full advantage of that whenever anyone slipped up, so he couldn’t understand why she would stay her hand that time. He also hated to _ask_ for a beating, but it was just too _weird_ to pass up.

“That, uh, that’s it? You’re not going to yell or pitch a fit or . . . anything?”

“No,” she said in the same monotone, resuming her paperwork. “Bye.”

“Scar—well, uh, bye.” He stepped outside of the office and shut it with a dumbfounded expression. And Erza wasn’t the only one acting stilted either, he realized: all of his fellow officers were kind of stiff around him like an embarrassing text circulated behind his back. He ran through his mental idiot meter and thought that _Well, I haven’t done anything particularly stupid in the last six months,_ so that explanation wasn’t going to cut it. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “I’m probably just paranoid.”

“Been knew that, Dragneel,” said the most annoying partner in the world, slapping Natsu on the shoulder blade. He jumped, more from the surprise from the impact, and rounded on Fullbuster.

“Oi, what’re you doing touchin’ me like that? You got a death wish, Fullbuster?”

“I think you do, going to bug Erza like that,” he countered, hands on his hips.

“At least I didn’t leave my pair at home, Ice-Prick.”

“At least _my_ brains aren’t ash, moron.” Natsu suppressed a smile—at least Gray was acting normal, although he kept looking Natsu up and down like his shirt was inside-out, and though he was ninety percent sure it wasn’t, he was certain that had it been Gray wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to point it out and make him look even more pea-brained. “And anyway, there’s a job for us straight from Colonel Laxus—Shirotsume, cat burglar, nothing major.”

“These criminals need to step up their game. I’m lookin’ for a real fight out here!”

“No criminal is psycho enough to be on your level, Dragneel,” he sighed, pushing Natsu away. He sneered at the insult and shoved Gray back, effectively regressing them into preschoolers as they pushed and shoved and called each other ridiculous names. He felt normal until they reached the lobby, where the officers milling around in there gave him weird side-eye eye looks.

“Okay, Fullbuster, tell me what bites?”

“What are you talking about, flame-brain?”

“Why’s everybody lookin’ at me like the newest catch of the day? Did I forget to flush or something?”

“Well, you’re notorious for that,” said Gray with a grimace, “but no.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

His mouth briefly skewed into a harsh line, then his expression eased as he clapped a hand on Natsu’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it—you know these guys are pretty damn strange.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice. Let’s roll already, Fullbuster—I’m fired up and ready to bust a bastard.”

* * *

Natsu was twenty-two years old and, from what he was constantly told, very young-looking. His father, Igneel, the ex-Colonel of the Magnolia Police Force, had bright red hair, and his mother was blonde—one way or another that equated to him having salmon-colored hair that was the cause of so, _so_ much ridicule as a kid. Maybe that was why he became an officer, so he could give a ticket and/or slap handcuffs on anyone that crossed him again. He was loud and obnoxious and loved a good fight now and again which only Gray could measure up to—it was the reason they became friends back in middle school, when Natsu stole Gray’s everyday ice cream sandwiches and they started whaling on each other.

He lived in his apartment alone because why not—well, he wasn’t exactly alone. His cat, Happy, whose fur had been permanently tainted blue due to a highly unfortunate accident that both of them were reluctant to reflect upon, also lived with him, and although he wasn’t a _sparkling conversationalist,_ he was ten times better than Fullbuster. Well, there was also his cousin Gajeel—accountant with thirty piercings, always fun at family events—and his little niece Wendy, who was always pleasantly embarrassed when he pulled up at the middle school with sirens ringing and with the mic as well for good measure.

He was single, although completely by choice. The women in his life were either taken or completely psychotic, which he guessed made him immune to all things sexual. The others made a running gag out of it on the many nights that they went out on group dates to somewhere _fancy_ like bowling and Natsu was left at home sleeping, simply to be subjected to the detailed rendition by Fullbuster in the morning. He didn’t mind being alone however—his old man didn’t take that arrow to the knee until he was thirty, and they were pretty happy together.

Natsu was the one riding shotgun, since the most frequent complaint given towards his partnership was _He drives like a homicidal maniac!_ He didn’t refute the claim, just wished it came less harsh. Gray still drove like a bitch in his opinion. He had two basic rules: stoplights mean speed up, and green lights mean take-the-fuck-off. Except he didn’t jump curbs, which _somehow_ made him the better choice for driver—not that either choice was better when their sirens were whirling and cars gave them all the berth they needed.

“What do ya think we got today?” Natsu asked, leaning out the window. “Male or female?”

“Eh . . .” Gray rolled a shoulder, eyes still on the road. “Female.”

“Cute?”

“Probably.”

“Cup size?”

“Double D,” he answered a little quicker.

“And you’re confident about that?”

“Pretty much,” he said in the same stilted tone. Gray wasn’t the most expressive bro around, hence his most popular nickname “Ice-Man,” but he more often than not gave complete sentences, so Natsu couldn’t figure out why he, of all people, had the same affliction as every other bastard at the department. He was starting to think that he forgot to flush the toilet for the third time that week—it was really the only thing he could’ve imagined he’d done to get such cold scorn. He _had_ been feeling awfully tired as of late, like he slept two hours rather than nine, so it was possible that he was lacking in more mental departments than on a customary day.

They passed through the city limits of Shirotsume and Natsu gawked slightly at how serene things were. He had lived in a huge city all his life, the kind of _huge_ where saying “Hello” to another bystander at a crosswalk got you a suspicious glare and anxious hands grabbing at their wallets and purses, so a small backwater town was more than a simple change of pace for him.

“Fullbuster, Dragneel, it’s Scarlet on the line,” Erza said over the radio. “The culprit was last sighted on Bluebird Lane three miles southeast of your location.”

“Got it.” The sirens came on and Natsu felt the pre-conviction adrenaline rush that he absolutely lived for. The second closest thing to that feeling was a rumble in the breakroom, and even those were generally lackluster, held over the last cinnamon roll and most frequently ending in some bastard crunching it underfoot. Even real chases had become stale, the one-time crooks abounding over the frequency he used to see only two years ago, up-and-coming syndicates like Twilight Ogre or Grimoire Heart that were a blast and three quarters to bust.

“Oi, Fullbuster.” He didn’t like to kick a dead horse, or in that case bludgeon a melted popsicle, which honestly sounded a lot less stupid in his head, but he had to do it. Usually, him and Gray would throw around some usual petty banter to warm up for the fight or just because.

“What?”

“Seriously. What did I do?”

“I’m telling you, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I _know_ when I’m being paranoid and this isn’t one of those times, Fullbuster. I feel like I’m an alien out here. What the hell is going on?” Gray simply sighed, keeping his eyes straight as they swerved onto a small residential-store street. Natsu sighed just before catching a wisp of blonde in the corner of his eye. He gestured for Gray to stop the car but was out of it before the wheels stopped rolling, his shoes skidding a bit across the gravel before he regained his bearings and took off in her direction, gun hand swinging at his side. He ducked into an alleyway so thin he had to inch between the buildings and cursed at it; with the limited space, he had no maneuverability.

“Hey cutie, love the dye job,” a sensual voice called from above. Natsu tilted his head back as much as he could to see a blonde beauty waving at him from the roof. Her tits were shaking from side to side in her barely-done button-down and, hell, Natsu had to take a second to just appreciate. (He was an idiot, sure, but he was a man first.)

“Wanna see it better? Come closer and let me give you a good look.”

“No thanks—I see plenty from up here.” She blew him a kiss before disappearing. He smirked—it looked like he would get a good chase for once. He sidled to the other end of the space, which opened into a wider backstreet with a canal on one end and the blonde at the other. He had barely undone the straps of his S&W when a gentle _click_ hummed through his ears, just as the call from the Reaper himself. He raised his eyes slowly to see her standing much closer, not but a hair’s breadth away from his nose, and the cold metal lips of her SIG Sauer kissing the underside of his chin. He grinned at her beneath his narrowed eyes, tilting his head a fraction backwards.

“Thanks, you’ve just reminded me to shave.”

“I think I can help with that, but I have to warn you, I give one hell of a shaving cut.” She attempted to pull the trigger before Natsu forced his palm into her chest, shoving her backwards, but to her credit she kept her grip on the pistol. Her glossy pink lips pulled into a sneer as she regained her footing, hiking boots skidding slightly on the dry gravel. Before Natsu could properly take aim on her she turned tail and jumped up to a fire escape, scaling it with the agility of his pet cat.

“Damn!” he hissed as she vanished again. “Gray, where the hell are you?” he growled into his walkie-talkie as he grabbed the ladder, pulling himself up to the rusted metal steps. He received garbled static in response and decided ‘to hell with that icepick bastard’ and kept the chase up himself. He reached the roof of the building at nearly the same time as his mouse, tailing her as she scooted along a narrow board to a neighboring building whose roof was full of A/C units. She immediately took position behind one, and as Natsu stepped onto the roof he met the cold gaze of her gun. He threw himself into a roll just as a bullet shot through the previous space that held his head.

“This would be a lot easier if you just sat still, Dragneel,” said that woman from across the roof. He smirked as he turned off the safety of his pistol.

“That’s the one thing I can’t do, ma’am.” He waited a few breaths before leaning out and taking aim, instantly meeting the eyes of the other.

“Bang-bang.” She fired again, nicking the side of his face as he was a beat too slow in dodging. He wiped the blood from his cheek onto his sleeve and paused before ducking and rolling towards the next cover. He looked up and met those brown depths once more, quickly switched to the darker depths of her gun. “You’re good,” she praised, “but you’ve got a long way to go before you’re on my level.”

“I’d have to have a huge fall from grace to be on a criminal’s level.” She raised her eyebrows, then his catch of the day _laughed._

“ _Criminal?_ ” She tutted and dropped her gun in the miniscule amount of space between them. He snorted and went for his cuffs—

“Where are my handcuffs?” he demanded, feeling his fingers clasp on air. She smirked, punctuated with a careless flip of her blonde locks.

“I just borrowed them. Here, you can have them back.” She was fast, Natsu could give her credit for that. She grabbed his wrists with practiced precision, and within the same movement she had them crossed and bound with his cuffs. He looked up with an angry growl and found her expression completely serious. “Natsu Dragneel, _the Salamander,_ you’re under arrest for three counts of arson and human endangerment.”

“Ooh . . . I see. You’re fucking kidding me.” She stood and holstered her gun, crossing her arms over his chest.

“No, I’m as serious as a heart attack. Did you think your many signings went overlooked?”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. All I know for sure is that when my partner shows, you’re dead.”

“Your ex-friends have actually been working on this capture for a while.” He flashed back to how off everybody was acting and gritted his teeth.

“You’re lying!” He made to leap at her, and he was just a breath away from that pretty face when strong arms clamped around his waist, pulling him backwards and into another body.

“Give it up,” said Gray with more world-weariness than Natsu had ever heard from him. He didn’t want to believe that his friends . . . the last people he thought he could trust in the world . . .

“Yo, Ice Prick, get his crazy bitch already.” He waited for Gray to release him but he didn’t, and his exasperation and fear grew each second. “Gray, quit messing around. Gray!”

“Take him away,” the woman sighed with a pitied shake of her head. Gray released Natsu to the ground where he immediately sunk to his knees, fervently studying the patterns of bird doo on the gravel. It was a dream, it had to be—it was a freaking nightmare and he’d wake up in the break room with Sharpie drawings on his face for the second time that month. He couldn’t have been an arsonist, it made _zero fucking sense._ He was a cop, a _hero. . ._

“Let’s go, Dragneel,” Gray said. “Don’t make me force you.”

“. . . No need,” whispered Natsu, getting to his feet. “I’m coming.”


	2. ii

Natsu was never much of a thinker, which far too many of his associates would happily agree to, but being incarcerated for supposed arson when he barely even knew how to use fire to cook turned him into Socrates. The cold and general loneliness of the interrogation room also pushed him towards the mental, because he knew that behind the one-way glass Erza was scrutinizing him for any little reaction. He let out a tired breath as he shifted his shoulders, twisting his wrists in the very little space the handcuffs allowed to try to get some semblance of comfortable.

Finally, after what felt like an hour—actually, it might’ve been—the metal door clicked before sliding open, and in stepped the dame that damned him in the first place. Her hair was pinned away from her face to give him a great view of her lovely features, and her second-skin pink button-down and slacks gave him an even better view of her lovely assets. She sat in the chair opposite to him and spent a good twenty seconds adjusting her shirt and making herself comfortable before giving him the smirk of a cat that caught the canary, or perhaps Gajeel getting a new piercing. “Good morning, Dragneel,” she mused.

“Hello Crazy Chick, we meet again.”

“ _Me,_ the crazy one?” she repeated, still smirking. “I think you have things turned all around, Salamander _._ ”

“I told you before, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he insisted. “And this whole situation’s batshit insane and I did nothing wrong. Can I go home now?”

“Feigning ignorance isn’t going to help you,” she sighed. “Admit it now and we’ll go easy on you.”

“I’m an officer too—I _know_ that’s a lie! And who are you anyway?”

“Special Agent Lucy Heartfilia.” She pulled her badge from her breast pocket and flashed it, and hell if it didn’t look legit. “I’m a bit of a . . . _secret weapon_. The department couldn’t catch you however hard they tried, so they called me in for a little ruse.”

“Oh, so the agency’s full of rats too?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“We’re all sick of the games, Dragneel. You’ve been caught pink-handed—just confess already.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll confess: this is all bullshit and _I want to go home_.” She sighed and rose to her feet.

“If that’s how you want to play it, you can also spend the night here.”

“You can’t do that.”

“ _I_ can,” she amended. “I’ve dealt with far worse sociopaths than you and turned them into shells of what they once were. Dealing with you will be nothing more than fun child’s play.”

“Well I’m not a sociopath, but good luck breaking me,” Natsu snorted. “If Erza couldn’t do it, you sure as hell can’t.”

“Well see about that,” said Agent Heartfilia with a coy smirk right before opening the door. “Have fun freezing your ass off, Dragneel.”

He scowled as the door shut, but as soon as he was sure everyone had gone for the night he dropped his head to the table. Why would they think he was a criminal? Sure, he picked the occasional fight, and sure, he had a threatening mug most of the time, which nobody relented on reminding him of, but he wasn’t a killer—he was taught better than that. He grumbled about the general absurdity of the situation for a good twenty minutes before he resigned himself to the fact that yes, everybody had gone home for the night and he might as well make himself comfortable.

* * *

“The tapes don’t lie, Fullbuster.”

Gray simply gritted his teeth even harder, if such a thing was possible—his jaw was already groaning in complaint and most certainly needed a crowbar to open at this point. Lucy thought that it ruined his otherwise handsome face—smooth and pale skin, cutting features, dark eyes that hinted at cerulean when he was ticked off enough, and even the sharp scar just above his eyebrow, like the ideal man sculpted of ice—but said nothing about it, instead locking her eyes on the tapes that they had reviewed thrice now.

The tape was from a local convenience store a couple of blocks away from Natsu’s apartment—apparently, he didn’t believe in going far as to not leave tracks. As a matter of fact, he appeared very sly on the black-and-white footage as he rang up two bottles of Golden Grain, the same alcohol of which residue was discovered at two separate locations suspected of arson. He was wearing a worn aviator’s jacket with shades pushed atop his fresh-out-of-bed hair, and he sported a swaggering simper as he made small-talk with the cashier. The second tape was of him—same outfit, same day—at a gas station a block away buying an electronic lighter, face adorned still with that atypical smirk.

“Damn,” muttered Gray, moaning as his shoulders slumped resignedly. “I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it. I just don’t understand _why._ He’s an idiot and a brute most of the time, but to _burn down three houses . . .!”_

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But it’s those closest to us that hold the most secrets, Gray, and I speak from . . . personal experience. Just be glad that now he can’t hurt anybody else.”

“Mm,” he muttered, followed by something she couldn’t decipher at all. Then he stood, sliding past her with that cold wind that always seemed to precede his presence. “Let’s go see him.”

“It’ll make you feel worse.”

“That’s gonna be hard,” he grunted, opening the door and heading down the hall. Lucy followed behind him, hands clasped at the small of her back as she stared at his strong shoulders beneath the navy uniform shirt. He and Natsu were like polar opposites, she realized: Gray was very sculpted and emitted a distant chill, even with those he was familiar with; Natsu was loud and rough and radiated heat like a miniature sun. It would seem like a distraction from what truly laid behind that goofy grin, but his overall cheerfulness had too many levels to be phony.

She opened the door to the investigation room and, well, she was surprised. It was seven A.M. and he spent the entire night there since eleven, however he did not look the least bit tired or uncomfortable. Those sharp eyes of his focused on them as they stepped in, and something about the lustrous olive shade of his irises threw her off slightly. She ignored her nerves as she sat opposite to him just as the night before, Gray standing aside from them with arms crossed.

“Good morning, Dragneel,” Lucy greeted, meeting his eyes. “Sleep well?” He stared for a second, frowning, then that sly smirk returned.

“Sweetheart! I was starting to think you’d never show,” he said with a slightly playful inflection. “By the way, it’s _Salamander._ ”

Gray’s fingers tightened on his arm as his eyes glinted with a strange emotion. “Natsu?”

“Don’t tell me you’re deaf now, Fullbuster. I said I’m Salamander,” he corrected coolly, glancing at Gray for a moment before looking back at Lucy. She and Gray exchanged a brief look.

“Salamander . . . are you in a confessing mood now?”

“Sure,” he said easily. “I burned those three houses down, and I enjoyed it too. Happy?”

“You sure fell from grace, ash-for-brains,” Gray managed through a smirk so tense Lucy could almost hear his facial muscles straining as much as his whitened knuckles on the edge of the table. Salamander grinned back at him, undeterred.

“That’s not what I would call it.”

“What would you call it then?” His tone instantly regressed into a snarl. “Stealing people’s homes within an inch of their own lives?”

“No . . . Not that either.” He was bordering amusement, probably the most sickening part of their entire back-and-forth. But as Lucy said, she intended to break him on behalf of all his friends he spent so long running in circles. “But you know what?” he added with a very somber expression.

“What?”

“I am very disappointed with the intelligence of this so-called _special department._ How long did it take for you to catch on to me? I’ve made a point of leaving clues every time—”

“For what?” Lucy demanded. “Did you _want_ to be incarcerated?” He shot her a dry smile.

“No, I did not want to be incarcerated. I _do not_ want to be incarcerated.”

“What else did you expect to happen, huh?” Gray snapped. Natsu shrugged a shoulder, unperturbed. “Don’t just act so—” Without warning, Gray lurched forward and slammed his fist into Natsu’s face, throwing him as far back as possible without overextending his cuffed arms. Natsu’s head snapped back from the impact, and he did not have the time to recover before another hit whirled on his jaw, making sure each side had equal amounts of swelling. He earned a bloody lip for Gray’s effort as well as a swollen cheek, both of which looked highly painful.

“Gray, stop. That’s enough.”

“That’s far from enough,” he muttered, wiping his bloodied and bruised knuckles on his slacks. Natsu sniffed but kept a straight face.

“Can I get a handkerchief? Maybe some ibuprofen?”

“Let the pain sober you up,” Lucy said. “Gray, you can leave now. I’m assuming you have other assignments to get to, and this seems hard for you to take.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Officer Fullbuster, leave the room now,” she repeated with a firmer tone of voice. He gave her a frozen look, the cold calculated eyes of one who has killed and looked away and just lost the last thing he cared about, and she held her ground until he stood without a single word and turned his back to them. He sighed through his nose and made a sound that might have been a curse before storming through the door, slamming it shut.

“Do you see what you’ve done to your best friend, Dragneel?” Lucy hissed, slamming her hands down on the desk. The sharp noises stunned Natsu if his flinch was anything to go by. “You wouldn’t know this about me, but I value friendship and trust above all else, two things you’ve completely shit on with everybody in this building. They’ve all given me the same testament to your character: _He’s always been such a nice guy, rowdy and slow but always there to help when I need it._ Obviously, something has changed, and I want to know _what._ ”

“Nothing has changed!” he growled with a sudden fervor that pushed her back against the chair. His hands fisted against the table as his eyes blazed with a new fire, lips curled back into an animalistic snarl. “This is only something that’s been coming for years! Now it’s happened and I can’t do a damn thing to change it, not me or Fullbuster or you, bitch. _This_ is what’s been building inside of me for so long.”

“—What?”

“I’m the Salamander, baby—it refers to a fire dragon,” he said in a lower tone, his features relaxing. “There was a fire in my belly that I just had to get out.”

“I see—you’re just crazy,” Lucy sighed. “My question is _why now?_ Why, after so many years of feigning companionship with everyone?”

“. . . No . . .” he whispered.

“Don’t act like you can’t fucking speak now.”

“I said _no,_ it _wasn’t fake,_ ” he persisted. “Why would you even assume that?” He left it there, dropping his face into his hands and falling silent for the rest of the day.

* * *

His face hurt . . . why did his face hurt?

Natsu groaned as he shifted, turning his eyes towards the flickering light source. Someone really needed to change that damn bulb, and his back was stiff as fuck—

“—What,” he mumbled blearily, lifting his heavy head. There was a wad of ice swathed in pink cloth printed with golden keys that had been serving as his pillow. He dropped his head to it once more, relishing the cool feeling touching his sweltering skin, and tried to make sense of his chaotic thoughts. He thought he had been asleep, but there were odd jumbles of disjointed words and images floating behind his eyelids that he was certain he hadn’t seen before. Besides that, he probably didn’t beat himself up.

“This is all so messed up,” Natsu groaned, digging his fingers into his palms. “Why . . . I don’t even like fire, why would I do arson? I _hate_ the damn stuff with a passion! I would never ever use it like that and especially not to _endanger someone!_ ” He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt warm tears slip down his swollen cheeks and onto the table. He rolled his face from view of those surely watching him and forced himself to stay whole. He wouldn’t break—he had promised himself that long ago. He would never break again even if he had to deny himself everything.

“I’m not a criminal,” he growled, digging his knuckles into his temples. “I’m not I’m not I’m fucking not a criminal!” He inhaled, held it for a few seconds, then released his breath slowly. He knotted his fingers into his hair and let his face hit the table, retiring until the return of Agent Heartfilia.


	3. iii

Three days passed with no change in Natsu Dragneel’s demeanor. Lucy had sworn to his friends to wear him down, but he was turning out to be as resilient as a boulder in a hurricane. Most days, he sat through the same spiel, rebutting each of her statements until it appeared physically painful for him to do so, which was when she was forced to relent. Lucy was not an easy woman, but something about Natsu was . . . different compared to other criminals. Not in that he wildly defended himself or his flip psychosomatic statuses, but something she wasn’t quite assured about.

Nevertheless, Friday morning she dressed in a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt for what she hoped would be the Big Confession. They had all the material indispensable for to book him for ten to fifteen, yes, but Lieutenant Scarlet and the others wanted more: they wanted the _why._ Natsu, conversely, was stingy with that one morsel of information for whatever reason. As she walked into the Magnolia Police Department, she was met with the usual muted sobriety that had befallen the previously colorful building. She nodded at Gray, who was staring into a cup of Starbucks as if it held all the answers, before winding the usual path to Interrogation Room #4.

“So, Dragneel,” she said, sitting opposite to him, “are you ready now?”

His hair was mussed into crazier spikes than usual and his sharp jawline was coated with matching pink fuzz, and with his purple-bruised eyes he looked like a street alcoholic rather than one of Magnolia’s finest. When she first met him, his uniform was pressed and cleaned despite his outlandish appearance; it had long since become rumpled and bunched, and his previous awards and ranks were revoked. His eyes were like daggers as he narrowed them to slits that could cut a throat. “For what?” he challenged.

“I’m not here to waste time—you’ve already wasted more than enough these last few days. Your friends—you _do_ remember what friends are, don’t you?—want the _truth,_ and you’re the only one that can give it to them.” He raised a shoulder, then let it drop.

“Will _the truth_ save me from a cell or the chair? I don’t think so, Princess.”

“You told me that you do care about your friends. Don’t you care for them enough to take them from the dark? They’re worried for you, you know,” she tried, taking a different approach. He rolled his eyes and let his head loll to the side.

“They aren’t worried for an arsonist, sweetheart, no matter what they tell you,” he said flatly and with full conviction. Therein lied one problem out of ninety-nine.

“You don’t think they still care?” she pressed. “Why do you think you’re here, in interrogation, rather than already spending your days in orange?”

“You’ve got a crush on me? I bite.” He committed the energy to watching her give a tight-lipped smile.

“You know, your sense of humor is more grating than entertaining.”

“I’ve heard.” She was getting nowhere again. She sighed and flicked a lock of hair from her face before resting her elbows on the table.

“Tell me what you want,” she said softly.

“To burn your house down.”

“That’s short-term, Dragneel. I want your reason for burning these houses down and I want the truth.”

“Have you ever feared the monster in your closet?” he asked out of the blue. She would’ve taken him for a joke had his eyes not been so grave. “You stare at that door every night expecting something to jump out . . . Then you decide to go in, all or nothing.”

“What does shit have to do with shit?”

“I expected you to be a little more than a dumb blonde, you know,” he said dully. “Oh well, we can’t always get what we want. Same goes for you: you want my confession, which you won’t _get._ I’m more than just a two-dimensional bastard that you’ll psychoanalyze with a few words. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to work that pretty head of yours on me, Agent Heartfilia.” She blinked, momentarily taken aback: it was the first time he’d ever used her proper title and not a nickname.

“That’s what I was hired for.”

“Money well spent, eh? You’re wasting your time and my time here, which we’re both aware of.”

“My real question is, if you claim to care about your friends just as much as they care about you, why turn on them without a reason? That’s the one question I came to ask and you’ve already spent . . . look here . . .” She checked her watch. “Fourteen . . . Fifteen minutes dodging it.”

“Because. You’re just not worth it.”

“I may not be, but aren’t your friends?” He stopped there, staring at her so intensely it felt as if she would burst into flames any second. “Natsu,” she said after a moment. His name seemed to bring him from a fugue, blinking heavily and shaking his head slowly.

“Before they were hurt . . .” he murmured. “Before they were hurt, I had to . . . The gun . . . Zzzzz . . .”

“What?” she asked, but not a second later his head hit the table. She shook her head and pushed away from the table. Even if he woke up again, chances were that he was going to be as disagreeable as ever. She picked up her notebook and scanned what she had already confirmed: Natsu had caused three fires, all of which endangered four lives but caused no casualties, and under the moniker “Salamander” / he had no memory of doing so; he genuinely cared about his friends; no regrets . . .

“Agent Heartfilia,” said Lieutenant Scarlet, startling her a bit as she shut the door behind her. Lucy rose to shake her hand, but the buxom redhead instead took the now vacated seat, locking her fingers together atop the table and staring at Natsu with a look that could shatter steel. “I heard the whole thing.”

“He’s a tough one,” Lucy commented, crossing her arms. Scarlet sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“More than anyone, we know that much . . .”

“If you don’t mind my asking . . . how long have you known him?”

“Fifteen years now—we’ve been together since grade school. He was always a . . . unique child, bringing his odd ideals and methods to the classroom. He only changed when Igneel . . .” She didn’t finish, but Lucy could connect the dots well enough on her own.

“Maybe therein lies the problem?” she suggested. Scarlet sighed in response.

“Natsu and Igneel had a near picture perfect relationship. They were more best friends than father and son. Igneel himself was a Natsu clone, albeit older, and he never displayed any evil intent, so I can’t imagine _this_ coming from him.”

“He said before he hates fire—what about that?”

“Igneel was killed by a house fire,” she told Lucy. “It happened while he was asleep and Natsu was at the academy. The source was never discovered, but it was eventually deemed accidental.”

“Accidental,” she repeated softly, pacing the small cubical room. “That makes it all the more odd that he would choose arson.” She had scoured every corner of his record in their half-week of interrogation, from his conception all the way to his haphazard dismissal from the line of duty, and other than several childish scuffles with Gray, she could find no felonies under his name. In that case, what was it that caused him to start that first fire six weeks ago?

"But you do see the same issue as I, don't you?" Scarlet continued. "He flips between one state of mind and another. In all the time I've known him, I've never seen such a thing happen before."

"Then it can't be a mental disorder . . . He could be faking."

"This is a far cry from his usual ruses."

"Which consist of . . .?"

"Switching shaving cream with whipped cream. Hand in warm water."

"Of course," she sighed. Then, after a moment of thought, "I remember reading that he had a brother?"

"Yes, Zeref Dragneel. He works a few towns over in a morgue."

"Can I get the name of the morgue?"

"You don't need the name—it's the only morgue in Alvarez." Alvarez, she'd heard of that city: although it had excellent education and health, the people were a little . . . weird.

"I'll check it out. You'll keep him company?"

"No one else will."

"Really?"

"Not many men are willing to see this descent of Natsu's, especially his friends." She grasped her fist so tightly her knuckles were bleached of color. "It's . . . jarring. Borderline painful."

* * *

Due to Lucy's car being in the shop the last two days (she'd been taking the city bus to the station, which was impressive all on its own) she was forced to ask her high school mate Loki for a ride. Not that he was unhappy to spare her the time—far from it—but there was a reason she tended to avoid enclosed spaces with him.

"As beautiful as ever, Lucy," he smiled, the sunlight glinting off his azure shades. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, facing away from him.

"You know, the flirting got old five years ago."

"Not to me. Your beauty still astounds me and shocks me breathless to day."

"Oh, I _wish_ it would shock you breathless."

"Anyhow, my lovely Princess, why the urge for Alvarez? Something there piqued your interest?" questioned Loki genially. He wasn't known for platonic geniality, but even he could have a human side.

"In a way."

"So, work?"

"Yup. A very interesting case this time."

"Yeah, I saw it on the news."

"Really, you check the news?" she asked.

"Well, no, but an ex did." Go figure. "The thing with Natsu, that's real?" He and Natsu weren't best friends, but if memory served, Natsu saved Loki once from a life-or-death situation in college. Considering that "life-or-death" had a different meaning to those two, she wasn't sure how legit it was, but their friendship was viable.

"As a heart attack."

"Damn," he said, shaking his head. "If he can fall from grace, anyone can."

"You know, everyone has nothing but nice to say about the guy," noted Lucy. "Like he was a saint or something."

"A saint? I wouldn't say that, but he was a kind of local hero. Like, no matter how bad of a day you have, Natsu could make it fun in a second. To think of him as a felon, and an arsonist on top of that? Just unbelievable." He pulled off the highway and into the outer districts of Alvarez. "Where in particular?"

"Lieutenant Scarlet said it's the only morgue in the city."

"The city has one morgue?" She shrugged and checked her Maps app. After a moment, her search results came. "Wow, there really is just one morgue. It says . . . Ankhseram Avenue, Sun Street. Just make a right at the next intersection and follow the main road until you see the turn."

"Your wish is my command, my lady."

"The flirting, Loki. Why do you always flirt with me anyway?"

"I flirt with everyone," he said unabashedly.

"Okay, but me especially. Even after that highly uncomfortable going steady stint." It wasn't something they liked revisiting, it was so awkward. She didn't know how she put up with six months of it.

"Good question," was all he said in response. He made an abrupt left, bringing her from her reverie as a large building like a castle came into view, standing out from the larger old-styled buildings around the district. The sign out front read _TARTAROS MORGUE_. "Want me to wait?" he asked as Lucy stepped out.

"Do you really have the time? It might take a while."

"On second thought, I have a date in fifteen minutes."

"It's a forty-minute drive back to Magnolia though?"

"I didn't say she's in Magnolia. But if you're really jammed, just call me and I'll take you back." He winked as he threw the car in reverse. "And one more thing?"

"No, I don't have any single girlfriends."

"Ah . . . no, that's not it. I want you to be careful," he said lowly, pushing his glasses up to his lion's mane of dark hair and giving her a look full of intent. "You can get a little crazy on the job and I don't want you to get hurt or—I can't imagine anything worse happening."

"Noted. Thank you, Loki." He gave her a genuine, nonsexual smile before he pulled away. She took a deep breath as she pushed through the large oaken double doors and into a crisp lobby that belonged more to a large corporation than a morgue, but considering how elegant the outside was, it wasn't hard to believe.

"Excuse me," she said to the receptionist, a woman wearing an odd helmet consisting of a pointed chin and wing-like appendages on the sides. "I'm Special Agent Lucy Heartfilia, currently working with the Magnolia PD, and I'd like to speak with Zeref Dragneel."

"Yes, of course," she said, despite giving Lucy a severely odd look as she stood. "I'll show you his office."

"Thank you, err . . ."

"Kyôka," she supplied.

"Thank you, Kyôka." She led Lucy down a long hall and past a lounge area that curiously housed a purple-haired man reading a thick book with a one-eyed mushroom on his shoulder, but before she could go investigate, Kyôka pointed out Zeref's office. "Oh," Lucy said, taking note of the dual voices inside. She turned to ask Kyôka if it was okay to enter but the woman had already gone—in record time, actually. Weird. She knocked twice and the voices hushed, which she took as her cue to go in.

Zeref looked kind of like Natsu, if she was to be generous. He had the same facial features and build, but the similarities ended there. He was sitting at a dark wood desk, and although there were two client chairs ahead of him, every square inch of space in the office was taken up by paper notes. They were scrawled either in atrocious handwriting or another language altogether, although she could make out several different formulas that ranged from trigonometric to imaginary. Next to him was a smaller woman with pale blond hair that swept to her bare feet and the calculating expression of the goddess Athena.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but I'm—"

"You're here about my brother," he interrupted immediately, dark eyes serenely blank, "aren't you?"

"So, you've heard the shocking news already."

"It would've been hard not to. Sit, and we'll talk." Lucy almost protested before the woman took up a handful of sheets from one chair, giving her an apologetic smile.

"He won't clean up no matter how often I tell him it's bad for business," she said. "Please excuse him."

"Ah, it's no big deal, uh . . ."

"Mavis Vermillion."

"She's staying, if that's alright," said Zeref.

"I suppose." Lucy sat in front and cleared a bit of space on his desk for her notebook. "I've read that you and Natsu were adopted by Igneel?"

"Yes, that's correct. We were both very young at the time."

"And what happened to your parents, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I mind," he said, still with that odd serene expression. Mavis gave him a reproachful look which he ignored.

"Alright. Have you ever noticed anything odd about him as a child?"

"Natsu is odd in his own right, but if you mean anything particularly unique, then no. Certainly nothing that'd make me peg him as an arsonist."

"Do you two have a good relationship?"

"In a way," Zeref supposed as Mavis deadpanned, "They once tried to kill each other," halting Lucy's pen mid-word.

"Wait what? You tried to kill each other?"

"It was a long time ago. Social services separated us then, and our relationship has been touch and go since."

"Yes well, um, I'd like more detail on that."

"It was a huge misunderstanding that I can't properly explain, or at least not in a reasonable amount of time," said Zeref with a dismissive wave. "And on that note, I don't believe any information I have will help you with the investigation."

"I'm one to decide that. And from what I see, you don't seem much concerned with his wellbeing."

"I don't . . . I can't express myself the same way as you. Trust me when I say that even though we tried to kill each other, Natsu is one of the most important things in my life, even if he doesn't quite share the sentiment."

"Mm," she noted. Then, "What about his hatred of fire?" She did get the story from Scarlet, but maybe Zeref had more information.

"Hatred of fire," he repeated, looking a bit dazed. Mavis snapped her fingers in front of his face after a moment, causing him to jump. "Oh. Sorry. I don't recall Natsu hating fire—in fact, he and Igneel used to love it. They often had campfires out in the woods and played with the, ah . . . What are those striped sticks that you light on fire the fourth of July?"

"Sparklers."

"Yes, they had a ball with those. They never did anything dangerous though." Lucy tapped her notes with a disappointed hum. Scarlet and Zeref's words weren't adding up, but as Zeref himself said, he and Natsu had a strained relationship: maybe he didn't know of Natsu's problem with fire as it happened after the separation.

"When you were separated, did it happen before or after Igneel's death?" He zoned out again, so Mavis answered:

"It was before, Miss Heartfilia, in their junior year of high school."

"Okay . . . Okay." She had run down her whole list, and that left just one last question. "Has he ever mentioned this nickname to you: the—" Suddenly her phone buzzed against her hip, and when she checked the I.D. Gray's name came up. Oh no. "I'm sorry, please excuse me," she said, rising with her things. "Gray, what's wrong?"

"Natsu," he said, the sound of sirens ringing in the background. "Erza left to use the bathroom, and when she came back both the handcuffs' chain and the lock on the door were broken. He's out there somewhere, and he's out for real blood."


	4. iv

His chest ached like never before. It was as if he’d taken one of Elfman’s punches right in his ribcage, it all ached so badly. The ache persisted and exacerbated as he ran so fast he could barely breathe, running down that old street . . .

_“So, you’re Natsu, are you?” said the strange man. Natsu couldn’t see him too well since the lights were off, but he could smell him: rot and some chemical . . . sulfur maybe? But mostly his nose was filled with the scent of blood. He recoiled, covering it as the strong odor brought tears to his eyes. “Igneel kept talking about you until the light left his eyes.”_

_“Igneel . . .” He looked around his father’s bedroom, but still things were too dark. He wanted to go turn on the lights, but some primal instinct was making the stray hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Who are you? Where is Igneel?”_

_“Your father is right there,” he said, unperturbed. “Sleeping the sleep of the dead.” He pointed something small and silver at the bed. A gun, he had a gun. And the smell of blood . . ._

_“You BASTARD!” Natsu roared, rushing forward despite the threat of taking a bullet to the brain. The man sidestepped him, not even wasting a bullet on his frenzied state. Natsu slammed into the wall from his momentum but wasn’t even fazed, spinning on his head and heading right back. His fist connected with the man’s face, and Natsu instantly reared back gripping his wrist._

_“Grandine and Metallicana have already met their demise. Igneel was just another tick down the list,” he continued._ Wendy and Gajeel’s folks, _he thought, alarmed._

_“It . . . It was a car accident that killed them . . .”_

_“It’s far too easily to alter public information. Like here, for instance. Instead of death by firing, Igneel will have died by what he holds most dear . . .” He held something up, something Natsu could barely see in the darkness but recognized nonetheless._

_“Our sparkler . . .”_

_He drew something smaller in his other hand, and with a flick of his finger a small flame lit the space between them. His dark skin was stained slightly with blood, a trail that went from his bare feet to the bed— Natsu didn’t even want to torture himself with a look. Instead, he kept his eyes forward as the flame met the sparkler’s tip, and it exploded in a shower of golden sparks._

_“How ironic for the pyromaniac to be burned, is it not?”_

_He dropped the sparkler onto the sheets, and they instantly burst into flames._

Natsu swallowed heavily as he caught the blue and red glow of a cop car and ducked into an alley. The cruiser eased on by slowly—they must’ve been heading to Igneel’s old home just as he was. He wanted to change paradigms, but he didn’t want to risk Gajeel or Wendy’s lives by going to their places—that house was his last refuge, somewhere to stop and think things through, find his next step. But as it seemed, that next step was going to be into an isolated jail cell.

 _I didn’t mean to hurt anyone—I know it,_ he thought, gritting his teeth. _But there are all these fuzzy spaces in my memory lately . . . There’s some truth in what Agent Heartfilia is saying, but how much?_

He decided that the stop was too risky and instead hit a turn back towards Magnolia’s outer edges. He had a new destination in mind, one that was more likely than not unguarded, because that old fart could more than take care of himself.

“What the hell am I even doing?” he wondered aloud, slowing to a walk as he reached the outskirts. Dirt pathways and trees replaced the houses and sidewalks, and his shoes skidded across the rocks as he began dragging his feet. _I was locked up for a good reason. I know I messed up Gray, and Erza too, and everyone there, but I’m still out here runnin’, trying to find something to prove my case. . . Don’t I deserve to be back there? That’s what everyone believes, anyway._

Still, he found himself in front of that old forest hobble, his hand already banging on the door. He stood there awkwardly, hands clasping and unclasping at his sides as he waited—for what, he wasn’t sure, but he hoped that it wasn’t a fist to the face. The door cracked open, and the first thing that hit him was the smell of booze. Okay, that was okay: the situation could go either way from there.

“Who’s it?” he slurred, looking through the opening. He met eyes with Natsu, who gave a little wave, and clicked his tongue. “I thought you’d be coming by sooner or later.” He opened the door wider and Natsu heaved a sigh of relief, stepping inside.

“You’re not mad at me or anything?” he asked.

“My child, I already wore out my capacity for you a long time ago,” Makarov sighed. “I’d like to know the details of the situation.”

“You and me both,” said Natsu dryly. Still, he tried his best to explain his odd situation to Makarov.

“Interesting, to say the least,” he said when Natsu had finished. He took his drink from a small table and poured himself a glass, then handed another to Natsu. “And this Salamander character appears with no warning whatsoever?”

“That’s what they say,” he muttered, taking a gulp. He never though a burn would’ve felt as pleasant as it did in that moment. “And I have all these blank spots in my memory too, so there’s truth in what they’re spouting.”

“Hmm, that’s curious,” he mused. “Natsu, did they by any chance tell you which houses you burned down?”

“Huh? Well . . . no, they didn’t.”

“Interesting,” was all he said. Natsu slumped into one of his armchairs as the alcohol took effect, taking a little of the edge from his buzzing nerves.

“This has something to do with my dad.”

“Igneel? How do you know?” Natsu swished the liquor around his mouth before swallowing with a weary sigh.

“I just . . . do, okay? I wish I had some information to go on here—this whole situation’s making me feel like I’ve gone bat-shit insane, and—well, maybe I have, but I’d like to know _why_ at least. But all Igneel’s stuff was burned down with him and—and I haven’t found that bastard either,” he growled, fists clenching in memory of Igneel’s killer.

“Perhaps the answer doesn’t lie with Igneel,” suggested Makarov, bringing Natsu’s surprised eyes up to his calm ones. “You’ve always been focused on one thing at a time—you should try broadening your view.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to help . . . I don’t know if anything can help me at this point.” He shook his head pitifully. “I betrayed my friends, lost my home . . . I’m the last of the Dragneel name and look at how much I fucked that up! I’m just a big mess-up, a damn failure.”

“My child . . .” Makarov waited patiently as Natsu scrubbed his eyes—when did he start crying?—and stared off resolutely out the window. “I don’t think you are bad. Misguided, perhaps. There is something affecting you, making you do things you normally would not have—that, I am sure of.”

“Then how do I stop it?” he demanded, though he was too tired to actually be irate.

“Start from zero,” he said. “Go to the root of the problem.”

“But I—I already said I can’t get back to Igneel’s.”

“Are you sure that that’s where everything started?” Well, no. He was adopted by Igneel, but that was so long ago, he didn’t even remember the orphan—

“But Zeref does,” he whispered, clenching his fists in his lap. Zeref, old egghead Zeref, remembered everything. Surely he would know. He jumped to his feet so quickly he almost got vertigo but walked his way through it. “Thanks Gramps, I owe ya again!”

“Just don’t get yourself killed out there, Natsu,” he said, waving after him. “That’s the only gift you can give me.”

* * *

Lucy chose to remain inside of Igneel Dragneel’s old home in case Natsu returned. If anything, he was unpredictable, and although the house surely held no purpose for him, there was a good chance of his return. At least, she believed that until she actually went inside.

She heard Scarlet’s story of the house being burned, and saw the arson report on it as well, but she hadn’t heard it had been rebuilt. The walls were repainted, the flooring and furniture were replaced, and everything just looked . . . new. In that case, it made it even less likely that Natsu would return, as even his horrid memories didn’t remain in that place. Still, they wanted to have every base covered, so she waited by the side door with one hand on her gun, watching through the window that spanned the entire backyard and part of the street. She took in the kitchen from the corner of her eye and mentally compared it to the Before photo she had seen. It was pretty much the same, albeit different furniture.

 _Did Natsu sit and eat here with Igneel and Zeref like a normal person, once upon a time?_ she wondered. She imagined a little pink-haired boy and his black-haired brother smearing breakfast over their faces as an older man laughed lovingly in the background. It somewhat irked her to know that Natsu, an arsonist, had had a less fretful childhood than herself.

She drew from her musings as she watched a small silver car pull up on the neighbor’s grass. It wasn’t a huge deal until the driver, a guy with spiky orange hair in two ponytails, stepped out and met her eyes. Something about his whole demeanor unsettled her even from dozens of feet away. Her palms sweated a little as the man continued staring long enough for her to discern a straight scar across his nose, then he covered part of his face and tossed his head as if he was preparing for a photoshoot. She pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes. _Just another idiot._

At least, until he raised his own gun and fired.

The window exploded in a shower of glass and Lucy had to duck to avoid getting shredded, but a few pieces cut open a long slice on her right arm. “Heartfilia, are you okay?” Gray’s voice buzzed over walkie-talkie. “Oi, answer.”

“Fine,” she managed through gritted teeth. “Did you see the perp? Is he still on the grounds?”

“Yes, we see him—he’s making a point of being seen. And—” Gray was cut off as bullets rang out both over the speaker and on the other side of the house. She burst through the door and immediately had to duck behind the toppled trashcan as bullets rained on them from the singular man. “He’s using an MK,” he informed her. “Military grade I think.”

“He might be a renegade soldier then.”

“Maybe. Did you get a good look at him?” A few bullets fired from their sides, but from the sound fire being returned, they obviously didn’t connect too well. One stray streaked between them, slicing a thin scratch on Lucy’s forehead and cutting a few bangs short. She cursed softly as she swiped her hand across the small trickle of blood.

“Tall, twentyish, orange hair, scar across the nose. Sounds familiar?”

“He’s not on our list,” Gray said, then began to speak again before their assaulter cut him off.

“What a police force you are, hiding away like bunnies from foxes,” he chided with an exaggerated tone. He sounded like an actor in the middle of a stage play. “Fine then, I have no problem with _smoking_ you out.”

“What—” There was a click, then something small went flying just next to them. Lucy didn’t have time to turn before it exploded in a cloud of smoke that quickly overtook the area. A few bullets went flying before everything shifted into a panicked silence.

“Now that I have your attention,” he started, “I’d like to know the location of our property.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Colonel Dreyar growled. His replying laugh echoed through the blank scape.

“Our project, E.N.D. Didn’t he tell you all? Well, I guess not, which makes this denouement even better. On behalf of the Spriggan 12, I’m looking for ‘Etherious’ Natsu Dragneel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad update schedule. I deserve the Princess's punishment. But I should be getting better from hereon. And as you can see, there are some canon aspects to the story. But let me put something out there now: there is no magic or otherwise supernatural forces involved. Psychology, and maybe a little scifi (maybe) are at play. And towards the reviewer that asked if this is NaLu, my final answer is I don't know. Not because I'm making this up as I go along, but because the original conceived idea wasn't of Romance, hence it not being in the genres. That's not to say they won't have a relationship towards the end, just that I don't know if it'll be beyond platonic.


	5. v

“Etherious Natsu Dragneel,” Lucy repeated in confusion. The surprise of the statement threw her off as a shadow passed through the gloom, and it was Gray’s quick movement that prevented her from sustaining too much damage, but nevertheless a blunt steel object collided with her side, fracturing a rib. She fell back against Gray for a moment as her breath halted from the pain, and he grabbed a shoulder to still her before taking aim and firing, only to find him dodging quickly to the side.

“Who are you?” he growled as he fired again. He pushed Lucy back to her feet and dived forward as he came from behind, swinging again as the smoke started to dissipate.

“I am god,” he said in an even grander tone of voice. “Well, God Serena. And as it seems Natsu isn’t here, I’ll be making my grand exit.” By the time the smoke cleared, his car was already peeling down the street.

“Did someone get the plate?” Scarlet asked, lowering her gun with a frustrated sigh.

“Juvia did,” said Officer Lockser, holding up her notepad. “But she doesn’t think this God Serena will hold the same number for very long.”

“It’s some sort of lead, at least.” She looked around at the handful of officers that had taken fire, then at Lucy, and shook her head slowly. “I’ll call an ambulance for you all. Those who are able-bodied, return to the station—we have some investigating to do.”

* * *

_“Hey, Porlyusica, do ya mind wasting a little time on me?”_

_“Under normal circumstances, I would’ve ignored your call altogether,” replied the family friend, “but as you’ve just lost your father, I’ll listen.”_

_“Okay, uh . . .” He looked around his apartment even though he knew he was alone and took a deep breath. “I’ve been having, uh, sleeping problems the last few months.”_

_“It’s expected considering the trauma you’ve went through. Have you tried seeing a therapist?”_

_“I did, one time, but things didn’t really . . . work out. He tried making me more comfortable about talking by starting with easy subjects, which I guess helped, but as soon as he brought up the f-fire, everything changed.” He shook his head vehemently with a broken sigh. “I had this, this h-headache, and the walls started closing in—okay, I had a panic attack. And after that I ran off. I’m not proud to say it, but I did.”_

_“Then what’s the difference with speaking to me about it?”_

_“I don’t know! You don’t even like people, but I chose you over some degree-toting bald fart.”_

_“. . . You said you were having sleeping problems?”_

_“Yeah. Night terrors, I guess they’re called? I wake up every few hours shouting because I flash back to the fire, and—and sometimes it’s not even the fire, sometimes it’s stuff that happened years before, like my eighth birthday with that firecracker cake and that time I was four when Dad took me and Zeref to ride on a firetruck . . .”_

_“I’m not a psychology expert, but it sounds like your brain is having trouble associating the good memories you’ve had surrounding fire to the impact that it’s recently had. Inner turmoil.”_

_“It’s inner annoying.”_

_“This is why therapists exist, Natsu, so you can talk out what you feel. Otherwise, they’ll keep building within you, and that’s neither healthy nor safe.”_

_“I want it to stop. And . . . I think I know how.”_

Natsu blinked groggily before sitting up in alarm. _When did that happen?_ he wondered, rubbing his head. It seemed to fit into one of the missing parts of his mind, like finding the right puzzle piece, but the rest of the picture was still dark. _Maybe . . . Maybe I just started blocking things out, after Dad died,_ he thought dismally. If so, he couldn’t see why he was remembering them now and not in the last few years.

He kicked away his temporary shelter of ripped insulation and old boxes before drawing himself from the shadows of the alley. It was sunset, nearing nighttime—he wasn’t going to get anywhere on foot like that. And he couldn’t get anywhere period as Natsu Dragneel. If anything, he needed a change of clothes. It wouldn’t help his signature pink hair or facial features, but it would at least be less cause for second glances.

He cut through the service entrance of a small secondhand shop and made his way to the main area, ducking behind a clearance pile. When he was sure that the few customers weren’t looking in his direction, he snatched some random clothes and ducked into the dressing booth. Quickly stripping away his worn and dirtied clothes, Natsu donned the gold and black jacket, white canvas pants, and sandals. He stared at himself in the mirror and realized that he looked like a Middle Earth character, but at least Middle Earth was some sort of disguise. He could pretend to be LARPing or something.

“Yo, is someone in there? We’re about to close,” came a male voice from the other side of the door. He panicked and peeked through the crack between the door and wall: a couple of workers were cleaning up, and there was maybe one other customer in the store. Certainly not enough cover for him to sneak out unseen, not unless he was a wizard or something. But maybe, if he diverted their attention, he would have more room to escape the same way he came in.

The first thing he went for was his gun, then he remembered that all his possessions were confiscated before he was put into custody. Swearing to himself, he checked the pockets of his borrowed clothes and came up with a bag of novelty spark balls. He shook his head in dismay at first, but then decided them to be useful—that is, if he still had his sharpshooting skills with his mind being as it was.

He looked up and found a smoke detector just above the dressing room stall, but to hit it he had to stand on the small bench, making him visible to anyone looking his direction. Steeling himself, he hopped onto the bench and tossed the spark balls as quickly as he could while also attempting to be accurate. They pelted the smoke detector’s surface, scorching it slightly, but it was the ensuing sparks that set it off.

“Hey—what? Fire?” Natsu didn’t have a change to look and instead threw all his bets to fate as he burst through the dressing room’s door and sprinted through the door. He caught sight of a man about the same age and build with blond hair and a scar, but thankfully he was too surprised to give chase, although Natsu was fairly certain that man caught his face. He ducked through the staff exit before he could be stopped, heading onto an adjacent street and into the night crowds of Magnolia.

 _Plan, I need a plan,_ he thought, creeping along with them as to stay hidden. He noticed a commotion building towards the northwestern end of town with some firefighters and police heading over—the same direction as Igneel’s house, coincidentally. His heart clenched, and although every fiber of his being screamed for him to be there, he knew that he’d be dog meat if he tried to get within twenty feet of the place. So even as his body cried out in protest, he pressed on, away from Igneel’s house, as far as possible from Igneel’s house.

 _Maybe I could take a bus to Alvarez,_ he wondered. _No, wait—me and a bunch of other people in a closed space won’t end well. Then maybe a taxi? Ah, I’m still broke. Not that many options for an escaped convict . . ._ A sudden headache took hold and Natsu stumbled, a hand against his temple as he had to lean against a light post. The pain started off as a dull ache but quickly escalated into a stabbing agony that brought white stars whenever he closed his eyes. His jaw clenched so tightly it could crush steel as he tried to wait out the pain that never ebbed.

_“I’m the Salamander, baby—it refers to a fire dragon,” he said in a lower tone, his features relaxing. “There was a fire in my belly that I just had to get out.”_

Natsu _felt_ it—it was like a hand reached from the recesses of his psyche and seized his consciousness, dragging it down to the pits of his mind. He could actually _feel_ himself falling, falling, even as he stood there on the street, and after a moment he couldn’t even feel that. He couldn’t feel _anything._

“Well, well, well,” he hummed with a leer, smoothing down his jacket before slipping his hands into his pockets. He slipped back among the ranks of the everyday citizens, and after no more than a few moments he had two wallets stuffed with cash. “Looks like I’m taking the express train to downtown.” His eyes wandered to the horizon where the south end of Magnolia extended, and his leer dissolved into fury. “Those damn Spriggans are going to learn their place in the face of the Salamander.”

* * *

The easiest of Zeref’s lackeys to find was kneeling in prayer at one of Natsu’s previous marks. The blackened foundation appeared to push from the ground like the undead, reaching towards the moon and starlit sky in yearning for something better. Natsu knew something better: the face of the crime group Eisenwald as he burned their base of operations to the ground.

“May their souls rest in peace,” murmured Larcade, resting his hands on his knees. Natsu waited for him to finish and look up, his usual calm expression on his face. “Uncle,” he greeted. “What brings you here?”

“Are you joking?” he snorted. “It’s because of you. I don’t get as much pleasure basking in our enemies’ defeat as you all do.”

“Oh?” he hummed curiously. Natsu snorted again.

“I don’t and you Spriggan bastards know it. I’m not as much like my brother as you think. I did this because I had to, or else I could go insane, again like my brother.”

“You’re testing my temper, talking about Father in that way,” Larcade warned. Natsu rolled his eyes but relented—the last thing he needed was Larcade riding his ass and especially when Natsu was the one looking for favors.

“I’m actually looking for Zeref right now.”

“Funny,” he said, instantly back to his easygoing manner. “He’s looking for you, too.”

“What?” Now that was a surprise. If Zeref wanted him, he would’ve already been found long time ago, especially since his face was plastered on every news channel in Magnolia.

“We expected you to be at Igneel’s home, but instead we found a horde of police. They were easily scared off, like insects.” His thoughts briefly wandered to Agent Heartfilia and he frowned.

“Is that so?” He folded his arms across his chest and turned away. “I would never have expected Gray to fold in, or least of all Erza.”

“Human nature always shines through in the end. When faced with a threat of unknown strength, they will inevitably fall back.”

“Look, I’d rather get going immediately rather than hear your misogynistic spiel, Larcade. Just call the rest of the Spriggan gang and let them string me up or whatever it is they want to do.” Larcade smiled a little too sweetly.

“Father expected you to come kicking and screaming,” he held, rising to his feet. His Alvarez attire billowed around him as he pressed his hands together in prayer. “And I hate to disappoint him.” Around him, three patches of darkness slowly formed into three more advancing bodies. Natsu let out a loud shriek of a laugh, cracking his neck.

“Oh, I believe that. I believe that strongly,” he rumbled, eyes narrowed. “Even as his flesh and blood, neither of us are treated all that well, eh?” Larcade’s brow twitched as he gritted his teeth.

“Father loves you,” he objected.

“And not you, am I right? But don’t be sore—I don’t think Zeref loves much more than Mavis, and even then, it’s a twisted sort of love. He’s the prime example that us Dragneels just aren’t capable of sane existences.” Natsu was too, evident by his mental state, but at least that wasn’t his personal fault. At least he didn’t go and take it out on countless innocents like Zeref did. “Well, no use beating a dead horse. Looks like I’m going to stretch some muscles tonight.”


	6. vi

Lucy wanted to help with the continued investigation, but as her so-called “friends” had her held up at her apartment to make sure she recovered to a hundred percent, she was extremely hindered.

“Loki, I said I’m _fine,_ ” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and hiding a grimace as she brushed the forming bruises. Loki just frowned at her, pulling up a chair from her dining table and sitting down.

“You’re not convincing me, Lucy—I hope you know that.” She groaned in response. “I’m not going to let you go out there and hurt yourself even more.”

“That’s my job though!” she pointed out.

“Well, yes, but even you have to agree that some weird shit’s going on right now. Having you run into the situation at less than a hundred percent won’t help the investigation and certainly won’t help you.” She pouted but didn’t refute his logic. “And besides, Erza promised to keep you tuned to any additional information, didn’t she? Your phone hasn’t so much as vibrated once all night. So even if you had the chance to jump back into the fray, it would be like diving into the ocean with your hands tied.”

“But nothing’s stopping me from trying to Google information, is there?” she challenged. “Give me my laptop.” He snickered a little as he handed it over. She started it up and immediately searched for _Spriggan 12,_ which gleaned about as much results as she was expecting: zero. So, she changed paradigms: _Zeref Dragneel._ “That’s more like it,” she murmured, finding several pages of information on his achievements in the fields of science, mathematics, and technology. Finding his biography didn’t help much, as there wasn’t anything that she hadn’t already known, but following a hunch on an accolade in HOSA received in his collegiate years, she found that he excelled in Psychology. “Hmm.”

“ _Hmm_ what?” Loki asked curiously, leaning over her shoulder. He was self-employed as far as she knew, but only because he was a catch-all type of man, a contemporary jack of all trades. That is to say, his intelligence was no joke, so Lucy wasn’t as inclined to hide the fine details from him.

“Zeref is adept in Psychology and his brother is a psycho. Irony?” He winced a little at _psycho._ “And he also mentioned Natsu having attempted to kill him once before.” _Could the situations be related?_ “Then there’s what God Serena mentioned about him being _‘Etherious’ Natsu Dragneel_ as well as being the project of the ‘Spriggan 12.’” All those terms bounced around in her skull like the pieces of a puzzle she was too blind to see.

“Sounds like a load to me,” admitted Loki.

“You’re not alone there,” she sighed, “but there’s a correlation between it all, I’m sure. This would be a lot better with the whole PD to help bounce ideas around . . .”

“Well for now, I’d think this lowly servant’s brain is enough, my princess,” he smirked. _There goes the Loki I know and despise,_ she thought with an eye-roll.

“There’s another part to the story that we’re not getting . . . I’ll have to find any other people that have known him a while.” She dialed Lieutenant Scarlet’s number and waited as it rang.

“I don’t think you’re going to have much luck there,” Loki said. “For how outgoing Natsu is, he doesn’t talk about himself much at all. I don’t think I know more than two sentences about him that don’t involve _food_ or _fighting_.”

“Gee, wonder why.”

“Honestly, Lucy, I still don’t believe he’s a bad guy at heart, and I don’t think you should either. You were never one to take things at face value.”

“I’m trying not to, honest, but facts are facts here.”

“A fact is something verifiable by observation. So far, all you’ve actually observed is a cluster of riddles and half-baked answers and riding him for a confession. I thought you got this job because you liked hearing stories, not just slapping cuffs on someone tagged guilty?” His words made her think—that is, until the phone went to voicemail.

“That’s odd . . . She should be picking up.” She hung up with a frown. “Could it be that—”

A slam in the door downstairs put both on-edge. Loki was a weapon in himself, but Lucy had to grab her gun from her utility belt slung over the dining table, and by the time she returned to the main room, the intruder was already up. _What is that landlady doing with herself?_ she thought in exasperation, flicking off the safety. She whirled around the corner with jaw tensed. “I hope you have balls of steel, man—”

“I do not,” said Zeref coolly, giving her an easy smile. “But I do have something else you want.”

“What is that, exactly?” she asked, although she knew the answer already. His smile widened, though it contained no warmth or humor.

“My brother.” He spread his hands before clasping them behind his back. “In exchange, well . . .”

* * *

Larcade, being the easygoing asshole that he was, hung back while Ajeel, Invel, and Jacob advanced. _Well, this is going to be a challenge without my gun,_ he thought, cracking his knuckles, _but I’m nothing if not open to a challenge!_

Ajeel was first, kicking up a cloud of dust that dropped Natsu’s visibility to zero. But it wasn’t like he needed to see to know that the bastard was coming up from behind, and Natsu lashed out with a foot, connecting with something that gave him a satisfying crack in response. While Ajeel sat back to lick his wounds, Invel stepped up—he could tell from his ice-cold temperature that even rivaled Gray’s. Natsu swung instinctively as he drew close, and he took the opportunity to dodge and bring his knee up into his stomach. Natsu gasped, feeling winded, and Invel elbowed him in the neck. A new set of stars blinded him as he stumbled backwards and crashed into something tall and strong that quickly had his arms.

“You may be Father’s pride and joy,” Larcade murmured, “but even you can’t handle three at once.”

“That’s called _cheating,_ dear nephew,” Natsu smirked, spitting a wad of blood to the grass before he brought his legs up and back into Jacob’s stomach. He staggered from the impact, releasing Natsu, and as soon as he hit the ground his foot was shoved into Invel’s mouth. The kick had him flat on his back, glasses thrown a few feet off from the fall. “Lucky for me, I’m a game-breaker,” he said as he hit the ground, dodging as Ajeel attempted to toss sand in his eye and shoving his head into the dirt like the ostrich he was.

“Interesting,” said Larcade passively as Jacob pulled another vanishing act, his special skill. Natsu halted, waiting for the air behind him to shift before spinning around and intercepting his hand, which was clasped around a Glock. He bared his teeth at the sight and dug his heels into the ground, attempting to ground Jacob, but he forgot he was wearing sandals and his feet came free, causing him to slip. He changed directions at the last second as Jacob pulled the trigger, and Natsu let out a hiss of pain as the bullet buried itself in his abdomen.

“You think this is gonna be enough to stop me?” he growled, eyes flashing like hazard lights. “You guys are fooling yourselves.” He caught himself with a hand and prepared to propel himself forward once more before something pricked into the side of his neck.

“We’re not trying to kill you, remember?” said Invel coolly. “Our only duty is to bring you to Zeref.”

“Shit.” Waves of lethargy ran through him, and his attempt to jump to his feet ended up with him flat on his belly like a netted beast. He could barely put up a fight as Jacob slung him over his shoulder like a trash bundle. “The hell does . . . he want with me anyway? He ain’t give two shits before today.”

“Is it wrong for one to want to see their brother?”

“With Zeref . . . With Zeref, nothing is as simple as that. Not since we were kids—not ever.” He tried to grab Jacob’s shoulders but he could barely get his arms to work as he wanted. Besides that, he was feeling doubly woozy from blood loss. “Oi, oi you guys, do you want me to die before we get to Alvarez? Come on, you’re all too smart for that.”

“Hospital?” Jacob asked Larcade. He hummed thoughtfully.

“He wouldn’t be too welcome, nor do we personally know any healers.”

“I know someone that could help,” Natsu said. “You just have to let me go. She doesn’t like strangers all that much.”

“Natsu,” Invel said warningly.

“I’m not trying to pull a fast one. I want to see Zeref anyway, so why would I? Scout’s honor,” he grinned, crossing his heart. They all exchanged looks and a few words.

“To where?” Invel finally sighed. Natsu saw his chance to formulate a plan and grabbed it, but first he needed to buy himself more time.

“She lives just outside of Magnolia . . .”

_“I want it to stop. And . . . I think I know how.”_

_“Natsu?”_

_“I’m going to find the bastards that did it, every last one of them, and let_ them _know how it feels to watch everything and everyone they love burn to a crisp. I’ll let them know and I’ll make sure they don’t forget.”_

_“Natsu, that’s not like you,” Porlyusica said worriedly. “You should come over and—”_

_“You’re right,” he interrupted. “This isn’t like me. So I shouldn’t be_ me _in this. Maybe ‘Salamander?’ I’ve always liked that name . . . Well, details, details. But thanks for this talk, I needed to sort some things out.”_

* * *

Lucy knew it wouldn’t be smart to feed into Zeref’s demands, but she was backed into a metaphorical corner there: He had broken into her house and she was injured, not to mention the fact that she was temporarily disconnected from the station. Then again, she had a secret weapon he had no idea of: Loki. She trusted him with her life on more than one occasion and was sure she could still do it today.

“So earlier, you were lying to me?” she demanded through her tensed jaw. “At the morgue?”

“Not at all,” he replied glibly, though his eyes were flat and blank like a fish’s. “What I said was that nothing I know would help with the investigation, which is a truth. My information benefits only myself.”

“Lucky me that you’ve gone out of your way to make the distinction.” Zeref ignored that, or maybe he just didn’t notice her speaking, his eyes roaming over her gun.

“That won’t kill me,” he said matter-of-factly. Lucy’s lip curled.

“I know a small number of things that a gun can’t stop.”

“I see. As I was saying, all I request is my brother, then I will retreat. I’m attempting a peaceful consensus now.”

“Peaceful . . . So that man, God Serena, was indeed yours?” He nodded once, never breaking eye contact. It made Lucy wonder: if Zeref could employ skilled persons like that, how strong was _he?_ He appeared small and frail, but if there was anything that the game had taught her after nearly a decade, it was that looks could be highly deceiving. She had to take him as a trained killer and kept her instincts focused on him as a result. “You had all the chances in the world to regain Natsu Dragneel before. Why now?”

“The situation has changed now,” he clarified. “Now, Natsu is going out to most likely do something very stupid, and I must stop him.”

“A brother’s love. Is that what you’re trying to justify this as?”

“A twisted sort of love,” he amended with a wry smile, “but love nonetheless. The same way you’d love a piece of pottery forged by your own hands.”

“That’s no good. Natsu is flesh and blood, not a transferrable piece of property.”

“Now that, that is where you are wrong, Agent Heartfilia.” He was actually amused now, a sparkle in his eyes that brought out a bit of color in his irises. Scarlet? No, that was a trick of the light. Still, it appeared as if blood had painted his eyes as he beamed. “I’ve had plans for him since he was born, and through careful cultivation and psychological techniques, I’ve made him into the man he is today: a man suitable for reaching my ends.”

“You’re a twisted bastard, aren’t you?” she hissed, arms shaking. “That’s your own brother you’re talking about! Family is more than just using one another for your own ends . . .” A little too much emotion ran into her statement, but she reeled herself in and regained her bearings, steadying her grip.

“Curious,” he said. “You speak from experience. Why is that?”

“None of your damn business! Now, I suggest you get on your knees and put your face and hands on the ground before I do something you’ll regret.”

“I’ve told you already, that gun won’t . . . No matter. Then I take it you won’t be giving me Natsu.” Lucy was just about to give him his last warning when a _bang_ rang through the air. It took her a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t her gun that went off. She looked over in time to catch Loki hitting the ground, a dark red stain blooming across his jeans. “He was preparing to attack me and I reacted accordingly.” Zeref’s voice brought her attention back to him. Her head whipped back and caught sight of a silver object returning to the folds of his baroque black jacket.

“You— Loki, are you alright?”

“He got my thigh,” he hissed through his teeth, his leg pulled in towards his arched torso. “—Femoral artery.” _That’s major,_ she thought, aided by the quick spread of blood that began to stain her floor. _He’ll need a hospital, but before we can get there . . ._

She fired, and whether intending to dodge or not, Zeref took it somewhere in his intestinal region rather than in the lung as she intended. Still, even as blood visibly stained his clothing, he appeared entirely unperturbed. “I told you,” he sighed before returning his arm to the air. A _bang!_ had Lucy’s gun flying from her bleeding hand—a side-eyed glance told her that she was scratched, not pierced—then a second bullet embedded itself into her firing arm. She cursed as she gripped the wound, feeling blood bubble up warm and thick from the injury and stain her loose white tee.

“I actually hate doing things the hard way,” confessed Zeref as he lifted his bangs from his forehead, revealing eyes that were indeed the shade of the blood draining from her body. He was shaking slightly, lips quirked—was he drawing excitement from the confrontation? “But you’ve forced my hand. I believe my plans will continue a lot easier with one less Agent Lucy Heartfilia.”


	7. vii

_These bitches are rolling in style,_ Natsu couldn’t help but think in awe as he was bodied into the backseat of a Lexus SUV. “What bank did you guys hit up, huh?” he had to ask. “And why didn’t I get a cut?”

“I suggest you stay silent,” Invel said as he slid into the passenger’s seat with Jacob behind the wheel. Larcade was the one positioned next to him, and honestly Natsu would have preferred Ajeel. They pulled out onto the street, driving off into the moonlit night.

“Or what, you’ll handcuff my mouth too? You’ve already beaten the shit outta me and busted a cap in my ass. Not to mention drugged me like a rampant elephant or something. What more can you do?”

“This can easily be done without the attitude, Uncle,” Larcade reprimanded gently.

“Oh, shove it up your ass.” He was swaying from side to side with the car’s movements, as he hadn’t the strength left to hold himself still, and his eyelids felt so incredibly heavy . . . _Can’t pass out,_ he thought, crashing his head into the rest in front of him. _Can’t pass out, can’t, can’t pass . . . can’t . . ._

“Is the Salamander alright?” Invel asked, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Natsu heavily slumped. Larcade looked over at him curiously.

“He’s fine,” he decided after a moment. “Only dreaming . . .”

* * *

_Screaming, the screaming should stop, it hurt . . ._

_Sleep, now that sounded nice . . ._

_“Natsu, stay awake!”_

_Zeref, was that Zeref? And screaming . . . Oh, no, he’d slept in again, didn’t he? Mom was going to murder him._

_“Natsu!”_

_Alright, alright already, damn Zeref! If he had to get killed, he should at least be rested, so he could die knowing he had one last good nap._

_“Ugh, you—are—heavy— Water, water, need water—”_

_Sleep, sleep, sleep and dream of even more sleep . . . an endless sleep that could never be interrupted . . . But wait, an endless sleep, wasn’t that—_

SPLOOSH!

_“ZEREF WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK ARE YOU DOING I’M GOING TO DROWN ASDFGKG—”_

_A strong hand gripped Natsu’s own, stopping his wild thrashing and hauling him from the water in one easy move. He flopped onto his back and gulped air—sweet, dry air—until he was forced to roll over and throw up a certifiable bucketful of seawater. Through red, tearstained eyes, he could see Igneel chewing out Zeref, who looked more pensive than repentant. Natsu recognized that expression: it was the same one he wore when he was more concerned with why his fifth-grade volcano project bombed rather than the other student that was the victim of said bombing._

_“D-Dad,” he choked out past his heaving. Igneel left Zeref alone to kneel at his side, rubbing soothing circles into Natsu’s back while Zeref kept making that look, although it was now directed right at Natsu, and the black eyes of the Dragneel family almost looked—_

_“—red, it was red, red all over.” Natsu could barely get the words out, he was shaking so badly, teeth chattering and all as he curled in on himself in the chair outside of the principal’s office. Zeref was standing directly in front of him, a calm look on his face as he crouched and took Natsu’s hands. “No, let go, you’ll get dirty!” Natsu shouted, trying to pull away, but Zeref’s grip was oddly strong for his frame._

_“Deliora was a criminal,” he insisted in a low tone of voice. “He was the reason that your friend Gray’s parents are dead, isn’t he?”_

_“Zeref—”_

_“Isn’t he?”_

_“Yes! But Zeref—”_

_“And he would’ve done the same again on these schoolgrounds if you hadn’t interceded.” He gripped Natsu’s hands tighter, the ones that were red and raw from scrubbing with bleach, but he knew the blood that still lurked there in the creases of his palms, the undersides of his nails, between his fingers . . . “You_ saved _him, Natsu,” he asserted, eyes glinting. “And more importantly, I see the power that is within you. You are amazing, my little brother.”_

_“Zeref, you’re—my hands—”_

_“And I won’t let how amazing you are go to waste,” he promised with an unusual fervor, with eyes that shone with a red hue in the old fluorescent school lights, “I promise, Natsu.”_

_“I promise I’ll keep my eye on you,” Igneel said with an encouraging hand on Natsu’s shoulders. He felt his muscles tense beneath his black tank top as he held the gun with both hands at the target across the grass. Igneel squeezed once as he gave soft directions—“feet shoulder-width apart, right index finger against the side, left hand steadying”—and after a moment, Igneel murmured his approval and loaded the gun. It wasn’t heavier by too much, but it still felt as if the world was weighing down Natsu’s hands. “Get ready for the recoil now . . . aim at the target, you see the target clearly?”_

_“See it,” Natsu muttered, closing one eye to get a clear picture of the human-shaped target board. He had said it was the same that they used at the station for target practice, and it sure looked used._

_“Now, get ready for the kickback . . . aim again . . . shoot!”_

_The_ bang! _felt deafening, as if the world around him had exploded. Natsu considered himself a strong guy, but it took a lot of effort not to drop the gun on instinct afterwards. The bullet embedded into the target’s heart. “Wow,” Igneel whistled, taking the gun and unloading it. Natsu rolled his shoulders with a grateful sigh, then a grin took over his face. “You may just be the best shooter in the tenth grade. Hell, you’re better than half the guys on the force! You must get that from your old man.”_

_“Damn right!” Natsu exclaimed. The sound of grass crunching to his side alerted him to another presence, and when he glanced over, he saw a head of black hair disappearing down the hill. All the tension jumped back into his body in a second. Zeref shouldn’t have been there, they had been separated, because . . . because . . ._

_“. . . because you’re my little brother,” Zeref murmured, a hand on Natsu’s face, “and I love you.”_

_ZZZZZZ_

_“Killing is considered bad, Natsu, but only as society sees fit to label it as such. We have wars that are essentially massacres that the country avidly participates in, then it goes around and shuns them. People are hypocrites and liars. They will twist around your perceptions as they see fit. I, on the other hand, will give you the truth.”_

_ZZ—ZZZZ—_

_“There are mistakes in the world, errors in the programming of the universe that exist for nothing else but to cause pain and suffering onto others. I couldn’t do anything about it even if I wanted, but_ you _are strong—you could easily deal with them with the right guidance, and that guidance will be me.”_

_“Zeref, what are you talking about . . .?”_

_“I’m one of those errors. You’ll have to kill me as well, you know.”_

_ZZZZEREFFFFF_

_“I couldn’t! No way! I can’t kill my brother!”_

_“You_ can _, it’s just a matter of you not wanting it. No matter, you’ll want to soon enough, I’ll make sure of it. Now—”_

_ZZZZZ—ZZZ—ZZZ_

_“Salamander. You like dragons, do you?”_

_“Mm . . . ah . . .”_

_“I see.”_

_ZZZEREFFFF PLEEEEASE_

_“Dad taught you to shoot, has he? That makes this easier. But at this point, I don’t think you’re much like the Natsu I know any more. There’s a word I’ve read about and I think it fits you perfectly: Etherious. Etherious Natsu Dragneel. E.N.D.”_

_ZZZ—ZZZ_

_. . . The memories end there._

* * *

Warm, it was so warm . . . Natsu wanted to just sleep forever in the warmth, it was so perfect . . .

Then again, he couldn’t stay asleep, could he? He still had his name to clear, and he still had to see Zeref, and there was an important one in there too, what was it . . .?

Oh, yes, if he slept, he would die.

The thought propelled him from unconsciousness and he sat bolt-upright. The pain hit him immediately afterwards, causing him to double over with a groan. A very familiar wooden projectile bonked him on the back of his head.

“Don’t do that, idiot.”

“I—what—oh, it’s you,” he said dully, blinking until the pink and red blur solidified into Porlyusica. She held a wooden mortar under one arm and its pestle in the other, marked with some whitish-green herbs and a suspicious stain like Natsu’s blood.

“Yes, it’s me, the one who’s saved your life _yet again,_ ” Porlyusica groused, setting them down on a nearby table and resting a hand against his forehead. His eyes roved her small apartment, still as cramped as he remembered with more strange plants and blue lights than a pothead’s. The place reeked of all their scents, spicy and sweet and pungent all at the same time, but after so many years it had become more homey than repulsive. “You’ve a slight fever,” she noted, pulling away and circling her garden, eyeing each plant. He struggled into a half-elevated position with his elbows bearing all his weight.

“What happened to the Spriggan guys?”

“I chased them out. I’ve already reached my limit with one human,” she declared crossly, clenching a fist. “They’re waiting downstairs for you and have been doing so since last night.”

“It’s morning now?”

“Didn’t I just say so?” she snapped.

“Oh.” Then he didn’t have too much time. He grabbed her heavy knitted cover and lifted it tentatively. His shirt had been removed, baring the bandages wrapped around his waist. It felt like she’d given him a bit of painkillers too, because he barely felt anything. “Thanks for saving my ass . . . again.”

“Natsu,” she said seriously, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “I’ve fixed you to the best of my ability, but my potions and remedies can’t fix your mind. What your brother has done to you—”

“You know what Zeref did to me?” he interrupted, eyes wide.

“I do now.” She took a handful of fuzzy white plant like wheat and dumped it into the mortar, followed by a clump of stringy green leaves. “It’s not something that can be easily fixed. That man is very good at manipulation.”

“Shit,” he muttered, resting his forehead on his palm. If there was anything that he realized over the last few days, it was that the “Salamander” persona appeared and disappeared over random stimuli. He couldn’t stand to be around his friends like that—but no. Things were fuzzy in that state, but he knew that he still had the same morals: he wouldn’t hurt those that he cared about. If that was the case, then his other morals also should have held up, such as “protecting the innocents.” Hence, Natsu should have been very unable to burn down any houses and endanger innocents’ lives.

“Drink this.” An old Japanese tea mug was held out under his nose, brimming with a light blue liquid that sloshed like milk. “It’ll make you a bit drowsy.”

 _Like hell I need that right now,_ he thought, but knew better than to say it to her face, especially when part of his brain was swelling into the growing knot on the back of his skull. He took one sip to satisfy her, and when she turned he tossed it through the open window. Someone’s cat was really mad about that. “How good am I right now?”

“Not good enough to do whatever inane and dangerous thing you’re thinking of,” she retorted. He beamed in response, swinging his legs over to stand.

“Then that means I’m operating on my usual standard.” Porlyusica sighed in response.

“I know you’re already beyond my influence, so I won’t bother trying to convince you otherwise. However, I do have some parting words,” she said as she handed him his jacket, laundered and with the bullet hole sewed up. “I’m not fond of humans—”

“Don’t I know it?” he muttered with a smirk, shrugging the jacket on and earning another swing he barely dodged.

“—so I don’t like seeing their faces too often. Don’t show up here again.”

He smiled, because he knew what she really meant: _Don’t let yourself get hurt._ “Thanks again, Porlyusica. I couldn’t be more indebted to you.”

“Just get out already!” she hissed. He held up a parting fist and headed towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob and turned to her.

“You still believe in me,” he realized. “Why?” She gave him a flat look.

“I’ve known you since you were born, Natsu. If there’s anything I’ve learned about you in all that time, it’s that you’re one of the few good humans around—you wouldn’t harm another without due reason. I simply believed in that fact.”

“Aww,” Natsu grinned. “I’d hug you, but I’m pretty sure you’d just stab me, so I’ll see you later.”

Invel was waiting outside of the car as Natsu came downstairs. He was tensed as if for a fight and Natsu shrugged it off. “Not fighting, remember? Let’s get to Alvarez already.”

“Lord Zeref isn’t in Alvarez.” The words stunned Natsu far better than any physical attack, and he was easily shoved into the backseat once more.

“What? He’s not?” Having Zeref on the move was like a tornado watch—danger was fast coming, and it would be brutal. “Then where is he?” Silence. They pulled back onto the avenue. “You guys, tell me! Doesn’t the fact that I’m Zeref’s prized little brother mean anything! —Wait, don’t tell me he’s at the department. Tell me!”

“You’ve just said not to tell you,” Larcade said. Natsu growled and made to leap at him before Larcade seized his wrists with enough strength to cut off his blood flow. “You’re done,” he said with finality.

“You’re not going to hurt my friends and get away with it! None of you assholes will!” he shouted.

“You’re not in any position to say or do otherwise.”

“Yes, I am, because Zeref _needs_ me!”

“And what, you’re going to fight your way through us?” he asked with a cutting laugh. “You’ve seen how well that’s already worked for you.”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

“What?” he prompted with a malevolent glint that was quickly becoming the Dragneel special. _What indeed,_ Natsu thought with gritted teeth. The Salamander had already lost to them, and although he was loathe to admit it, Natsu wouldn’t fare much better.

“Go to hell, all of you,” he snarled. Larcade was satisfied enough to released him, and Natsu moved as far from him as possible to watch their path outside the window. They pulled up in front of a small two-story house, and as soon as Jacob cut the engine Natsu was grabbed and pushed outside with the same gentleness he’d been handled with.

“Keep in mind that should you attack Lord Zeref, the consequences will be graver,” Invel alerted him at point-blank range, so close Natsu could see his expression in his glasses. He didn’t respond, letting himself be hustled into the building, past a nice lobby and up some stairs. As they reached the landing above, the door was wide open, exposing Zeref’s back to them. He turned, which was when Natsu saw the blood painting his coat and slicking his gun-wielding hand.

_Oh, no . . ._

“Natsu,” he beamed, dragging a hand through his ruffled hair. The blood slicked it back like gel to bare his eyes of the same color. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t come to you sooner, but business had me held up.”

“Zeref, what in the—” He choked off as his eyes locked on a sprawled body with blood gently propagating on the wood around him. _Loki,_ he mouthed, unable to speak. Loki was still, eyes shut, hands clasped around his leg. He looked over to a smeared trail of the stuff, and found that the blood led to yet another: “Lucy!” he exclaimed. _An innocent, she was innocent, she was only doing her job, and Zeref killed her. Oh, no, nonono—_

“She was in the way,” he said impassively, pocketing the gun and locking his fingers together casually. “And now, Natsu, is time.”

“T . . . ime . . . for what?”

Zeref smiled, slow and cruel like a snake. “Time to complete my task.” Natsu’s stomach dropped and his fists clenched, shaking slightly from the force of his building emotion.

“I’m not going to,” he ground out. Zeref’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not going to do your dirty work, you bastard. I’m not—going to—do—what you—” His temper finally got the better of him, and Natsu rushed forward. It didn’t help that his bullet wound seized up on him, nor that Jacob and Ajeel tackled him from behind and into the ground. Gore smeared over his hand and cheek where he collided with the wood, and he damn near broke his neck on impact. Zeref walked towards him with an easy gait and crouched down, grasping Natsu’s chin with ice-cold, blood-slicked fingers.

“You have never had a choice in the matter,” he said in a cool and calculating voice. Natsu wound up to spit in Zeref’s eye, which made him recoil instinctively, and he kicked back to repel Ajeel, the smaller of the two. His elbow went out to uppercut Jacob, snapping his head backwards so violently that he caught whiplash. He was on his feet in a second, eyes wild and chest heaving from quick breaths, and dove after Zeref, seizing him by the collar.

“ _I_ make my choices!” he shouted. “You stole them from me! It’s because of you that I’m a criminal, that my friends think I’m a cold-blooded killer, that these two are _dead_ now— I may have been taught to be a monster, but you were _born_ one, Zeref.”

“And what will you do about that?” he asked in that same infuriatingly calm voice. Natsu’s free hand clenched into a fist that he raised, and he swung with all his strength. To break his nose? Break his neck? He didn’t know, but he was sure that he wanted that—that—that bastard to shut up for the rest of forever.

_Invel. What about Invel?_

The thought occurred to him a second too late as he heard a gun being cocked. He raised his head slowly to see Invel’s detached expression as he held the Glock, but it wasn’t aimed at Natsu—instead, it was aimed at Agent Heartfilia, who was half-up using her table as support and wielding her gun with both hands. Natsu couldn’t help but think of her as pretty badass with blood streaking across her face like war paint and her gun steady despite the bleeding wound on one of her hands.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Zeref said blankly. Lucy cracked a half-smile.

“I’m supposed to be a lot of things,” she retorted. “ _Dead_ isn’t one of them.” Then, very suddenly, she raised her hands and shot out the main light of the living room, bathing them in darkness. A single gunshot went off and the bullet zipped past Natsu’s ear, but otherwise everyone was still.

“Come on,” Natsu heard Lucy whisper with his hypersensitive hearing, followed by a body being half-dragged across the room. He released Zeref and shoved him backwards in a rush, chasing after her. He kept a close ear on her movements as she went the circumference of her apartment, then he was walking on tiles in what he assumed to be her kitchen. An LED clock marked the time as half past three in the morning. He heard something heavy hit the ground, then a blast of warm air hit his face as their steps retreated even further. He moved forward and slammed into the wall. Quickly feeling along the surface, he found a crack that he could sidle through.

 _Never underestimate an agent, I guess,_ he thought, feeling along the wall as the heat increased. He loved the heat on a normal day, but at that moment it felt like he was being roasted alive. He had to close his eyes as the sweat starting stinging them, which was an unwise decision, as not a few seconds later he popped free, falling down on a carpet that reeked like dog pee. _Fucking gross._

“Wonderful job, following me.” He looked up into the muzzle of an armed gun. “You’ve just made it easier to divide and conquer, Salamander. Or rather, E.N.D.”

“I’m neither! I’m Natsu,” he protested, clutching his aching stomach as he waved his other hand frantically. He looked to her side and noticed Loki crouched down next to a patchy couch, his leg stretched out before him. He stared into Natsu’s eyes long enough for it to be uncomfortable. “You still believe in me, don’t you?” he asked.

“Oi . . .”

“Long time ago, you said you were indebted to me. _This_ is my payback here—just have some goddamn faith in me where no one else does!” Natsu didn’t know what it was—maybe it was the fire in his eyes, or the sincerity in his voice—but Loki blinked, and a slight smile crossed his lips.

“Lucy,” he said lowly, “put down the gun.”

“Loki!” she said, appalled. He shook his head and raised his hand.

“Put down the gun please.”

“Like I’m going to disarm in front of—” She stopped and looked back at Natsu, chewing her lower lip, then gave a furious growl and holstered the gun. “Fine, there. I know I’ll regret this, but I’m trusting your judgement here, Loki.”

“Great,” Natsu praised, getting to his knees. He looked around and saw that they were in another apartment, one that appeared abandoned for a while. “They’ll find us, and quick, but I know how to lose them. We’re gonna get back to the department, and this is how.”


	8. viii

The last thing Lucy wanted to do was work with that shady man, but as Loki was inches from bleeding to death and she still felt groggy from . . . whatever it was that Zeref did, she didn’t have a real choice in the matter.

“You want to leave Loki here? You’re crazy,” she said.

“Look, I’m not sayin’ to leave him and don’t come back. Loki’s my friend too, you know.”

“And look how well you’ve treated your friends hitherto,” she pointed out acerbically. He alternatively grimaced and snarled.

“It wasn’t my fault! It was Zeref’s stupid brainwashing shit or—look, it doesn’t matter,” he decided, shaking his head vehemently. “The point is that if either of us go out there alone, especially with Loki as deadweight, we’ll be shot dead. We’ve gotta work together to get back, and we _will_ be getting back.”

“Then what’s the plan already, hotshot?”

“Zeref, amazingly, is the least destructive of them. His strength comes from how freaking hard he is to kill, but otherwise, he’s harmless. He’s good at thinking on his feet, on the other hand, so watch out for that. Larcade, the blond with the orange eyes, he’s the most dangerous and the most devoted follower, since Zeref is his dad.” Lucy’s eyes widened but she didn’t interrupt him. “Invel’s more of a tactician, but he can _box_. Jacob’s good at sneakin’ around and Ajeel’s really just a hard hitter with no brains to himself. That’s really his roster right now.”

“Right now. Meaning he has more?”

“Well, they’re the Spriggan _12,_ ” he pointed out. “But it’s really rare that Zeref ever moves them all out at once—this group of four is more than likely all he’s got right now. Even so, they ain’t pushovers.” He turned away for a moment, jaw tensed, then looked back at her with a scorching look. She could see that his eyes weren’t black, but a dark shade of green like jade. “But I’m not gonna be afraid of them, not anymore. Can you still shoot?”

“Well enough.”

“ _Well enough_ is good. I’ll take Loki.” He crouched down at Loki’s side and grabbed him around the waist, forcing him to his feet. Almost immediately, Loki fainted against him. “Shit, he’s lost too much blood,” Natsu swore, stumbling a little under the weight. “You’re gonna hafta take down Invel—he’s the only armed one, and while Jacob and Ajeel aren’t easy pickings, it’ll be a lot easier with a gun out of the equation. Besides, I need one. C’mon, we’re heading downstairs.”

Lucy covered his back as he shifted through the kitchen, mindful of Loki’s body. It wasn’t the first time she noticed it, but he hadn’t the demeanor of a criminal at all—at least, in a normal state. His eyes were predatory, but there was nothing malevolent about them. “Why are you fighting against Zeref at all?” she questioned quietly as they headed to the rear balcony. “You’ve been doing his dirty work for how long now?”

“Not willingly!” he growled, flashing her an irate look. “I had no idea he’d been screwing with my mind. That’s his thing: he’s a damn good manipulator. Hell, I probably found him out before and he just . . . hypnotized me or whatever into forgetting it. He would’ve kept doing so too, if you hadn’t come along.” His look softened fractionally, and he gave a grin that could melt even the coldest heart. “Thanks for kicking my ass, Agent Heartfilia.”

“Ha. That’s something you don’t even need to ask for.” He let out a quick but hearty laugh, and she chuckled a little in response—hey, she wasn’t stone. She was finally starting to understand the endearment her coworkers felt towards the pink-headed man.

“Lucky break!” he said as he pushed past the glass doors, peering over the railing. “There’s a Dumpster down there, within jumping distance. And—” He tensed as the sound of a revving engine echoed through the air. “The Spriggans are rolling out—they’re gonna search the block for us. We gotta make this quick. Here, you get Loki.”

“Why?”

“I’ll go down first so I can catch him, since he’s not exactly in jumping condition. Okay?” He was already shoving Loki over before he even finished the sentence. Loki was heavy, but she could manage for a moment—a moment was all it took for him to vault over the railing and land in the Dumpster with the loud sound of ripping plastic. “Rank!” he exclaimed with disgust, then clapped his hands over his mouth in fright. Lucy clapped a hand over her forehead with a groan.

_Now I recall why he’s an idiot!_

The SUV pulled to a stop at the corner, reversed, then doubled back towards the apartment’s parking lot. Natsu was out of the Dumpster and running across the asphalt in a second, and although he was fast, he wasn’t faster than a speeding car. Gunshots soon followed, which he avoided more out of panic than instinct. She watched a streetlamp’s bulb get shattered, then someone’s window, followed by an angry dog’s barking. She needed to get down and help, but she very well couldn’t toss Loki like garbage . . . into the garbage.

“Loki, wake up. _Wake up._ ” He snorted.

“No, Lucy, the see-through nightgown . . .” he muttered nearly incoherently before passing out again. Well, if he was capable of fantasizing, he wasn’t in too bad condition. Shifting her weight around, she managed to push him over the railing, and he tumbled over and into the garbage. He yelped in shock and she jumped after him, hitting the ground in a roll. She was momentarily blindsided by pain as she used her injured hand to brace against the impact, and her knee didn’t fare too well either, and when she recovered she saw Natsu running back towards her, the Spriggans and their gun hot on his heels. She hadn’t the time to even open her mouth before he streaked past, grabbing her and tossing her over his shoulder easily in one motion.

“Drop me right now!” she shouted instinctively.

“Don’t scream in my ear!” he said instead, forcing her to relax her grip on the gun and snatching it from her hand. As the SUV drew closer, Natsu took aim and fired at the windshield, then the front tire. Invel’s next shots went wide as the car careened off the road. Not off of a cliff, as she dearly wished, but the brakes were slammed on with a screech, and before it even came to a complete stop, the occupants were on foot.

“I can run,” Lucy growled, even as her knee throbbed terribly. It wasn’t broken, that she was sure of, but she most likely couldn’t run at the moment.

“Dude, _I_ felt you bust your knee,” he said with an eye-roll. “ _Sure_ you can run.” She was beginning to find Natsu more irritating than the Salamander as he ducked and rolled behind a bus stop’s bench, rolling a trash can there for extra cover. Setting Lucy down on the ground, he looked over the curved back and took aim.

“What about Loki?”

“I found a payphone and some change in these pants. Also, there’ll be emergency services coming by here soon,” he said. “Especially since half the block saw me runnin’ up and down the sidewalk.”

“But isn’t the department swamped?” she insisted. He sent her a half-grin, but it wasn’t any less crazy.

“You don’t live in Magnolia, so you wouldn’t know, but we’ve got a lot of ass-kickers hanging around. Me, I wanted to do it _legally,_ but there are plenty of crazy bastards that are vigilantes. If they show up on time, we’ll have enough cover to head to the station.”

“And if not?” she demanded. He shrugged a shoulder and ducked as a bullet whizzed over his head, shearing some pink strands.

“Let’s just say . . . I didn’t think that far ahead.” He gave her another smile, a mix of sheepish and breathless, before diving forward and ramming into another body with a loud thud. Lucy raised her head to see him grappling with the stoutest one. She was momentarily surprised she hadn’t heard him coming, then figured he must be Jacob, the sneaky one. Natsu braced his foot against the curb before dropping his arms to his stocky waist, and gave a loud roar as he hauled him backwards and suplexed him into the sidewalk. His head made a nasty cracking noise as it collided with the cement, and his body fell limp.

“Augh! Shit,” Natsu swore as he clenched his stomach, where patches of red seeped through the fabric of his jacket. “Must’ve reopened it . . .” He yelped and dove away as Invel rounded on him again, walking and shooting at the same time. He stumbled and hissed in pain as his injury protested the movement, but ran up to him nonetheless. Lucy thought he was going to attack him up close, then she saw her gun had been returned, left on the ground within her reach. So he was rushing an armed opponent while he himself was unarmed.

She gnashed her teeth. He feared them, yet he was doing it in other to buy them—her and Loki—some time. “This pink-haired, stupid, overconfident mother—”

“There!” Natsu pinned Invel’s shooting arm to his chest and growled defiantly as he rammed their foreheads together, smashing his glasses and his nose. He stumbled, the blue of his coat stained with the streams of red from his face, and his eyes narrowed with anger. Natsu smirked in response, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek.

“I hate to disobey Zeref, but you’d be better off as a bloody—” He fell short as his gun clicked emptily, then Natsu held up the magazine.

“I’m no gun expert, but I don’t think it’ll work without this.” He tossed it over his shoulder and narrowly avoided a punch thrown by Invel, but his subsequent kick landed right on mark in his gut. He grunted in pain as his knees buckled, and Invel smashed his knee into his face, breaking his nose and splitting his lip in turn, then brings his elbow down on the back of Natsu’s skull hard. He hits the ground, and Lucy isn’t sure if he’s shocked or unconscious. She grabbed the gun with her good hand and made a hasty shot, which went wide of Invel’s head. She did succeed in getting his attention.

“Not many people survive Zeref—for that, you’re impressive, Miss Heartfilia.” He rose to his feet and wiped his leaking nose on his sleeve before rushing towards Lucy. She pushed herself to her feet, which were just a bit unsteady, and turned to run—just to smash into a larger body. Jacob’s strong arms clasped around her, stilling her movements, although his bloodstained face was blushing in embarrassment. She pulled her knees up against her chest before kicking out into his stomach, forcing his grip to relax, and her next attack went right between his legs. If a concussion couldn’t keep him down, that surely would.

Invel was on her in the next moment. She shoved the gun into her waistband for the moment, as he was too close to land a decent shot on in her condition, and attempted a roundhouse kick, her best move when it came to hand-to-hand. He ducked forward slightly and caught her leg with his left hand, moved even closer, and twisted to slam his right elbow into her forehead. The blow left her disoriented and open for two normal jabs in the same spot, then an uppercut. She dizzily raised her leg for another kick, and he grabbed her ankle, using his foot to knock out the back of her standing knee. She fell hard on her back and saw him reaching down towards her—

“Hey!” Suddenly the tail end of a stop sign collided with Invel’s temple. It was so unexpected that he fell to the side, landing on the bus bench. The wielder of said stop sign, a man slightly older than her with unruly dark hair and a whole lot of piercings, offered her a hand up, which she took with no protest. “Only _I_ get to beat the shit outta that moron,” he continued, jabbing his thumb in Natsu’s direction. She noticed a young blue-haired girl in a school dress tending to him before Invel rose again, face dark with anger.

“Gajeel Redfox,” he said lowly. “The son of Igneel’s brother, Metallicana.”

“And I don’t know ya are or who ya _think_ ya are to be bashin’ on Natsu, and I don’t care to find out.” Lucy had no idea how he managed to wield a stop sign like a twig, or how he pulled it from the ground at all, but she wasn’t about to protest as he kept Invel occupied. She went over to Natsu, who was sitting up now with the girl rebandaging his waist, bared by the jacket that was pulled open and pushed down around his waist. Her traitorous eyes scanned his built torso for a moment before joining his.

“This is Wendy,” he said as she approached. “My niece. She should also be able to patch up Loki in the meantime.”

“Are you the one that locked Uncle Natsu up?” she asked Lucy, turning her large brown eyes over. She looked small and frail, but there was an underlying strength in her, similar to Natsu.

“Yes, I am,” she admitted.

“Then you’re strong,” she decided. “And you can help our friends.” Then she gave a smile and Lucy felt a strong urge to hug her and ruffle her hair.

“Alright, Wendy,” he said as he stood, cracking his neck. Lucy looked over and saw that Loki had hauled himself from the Dumpster and was sitting up against it, clutching at his leg weakly. Wendy grabbed her backpack and rushed over to him while Natsu nodded at Lucy. “Zeref, Larcade, and God Serena didn’t come down with the others, so chances are they’re at the department.”

“Serena.” An angry growl resounded in her throat. “That one, I know.”

“Then you know how dangerous he is. Let’s not waste time.” He grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her into a back alley just as an ambulance’s klaxon rang from down the block. They rested for a moment around the corner, watching the truck pass by, followed by two cruisers from the station across town, then they continued towards the department. Suddenly, it occurred to Lucy that she was dealing with the Salamander again. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, considering he wasn’t speaking more than necessary, but she supposed that after dealing with him a few days and learning his game, she could recognize the signs.

“You’re still trying to help your friends,” she said to him. He was a little faster than her, probably due to his longer legs, but she kept the pace. “Why’s that? You’re a criminal.”

“I told you before, I care about them,” he retorted with a touch of anger. “Fullbuster, Scarlet, all of them. More than that, I care about _everyone_ in the city—the good ones, anyway. Zeref could screw my profile around all he wanted, but he couldn’t wash out my morals. Those were ingrained in my heart by Igneel, and nothing short of my death could make me anything like that warped bastard.”

“But you burned down three separate dwellings,” she protested. He let out a sharp ring of laughter and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“The first place was the house of a drug biz, Eisenwald. They gave my old man some problems back in the day, and I thought they were the culprits in his death. Then I found out I was faked out, and the next place was even worse: Tartaros, a sect of even more poor souls brainwashed by my brother. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve tried talking them out of their craziness, tried to get them seeing things my way, but they were too far gone. And, lastly, was the actual killer, a bastard whose insanity damn near rivaled Zeref’s: this guy, Acnologia.”

“Acnologia . . . There was a huge case about him a few years ago, that he was an accessory in the deaths of Grandine Marvell and Metallicana . . . Redfox.” His face was grim as realization dawned on her.

“And my dad was the last mark. Dunno if I killed him or not, even to this day, but the place he called home is just a bunch of cinders on the ground now. That, at least, was pleasing to see.”

“So you never did hurt innocents,” she said.

“Well, duh! I would never. But you wouldn’t have believed me then, and I can tell you barely do now,” he lamented. At that moment, he didn’t look too much like Salamander, or even like Natsu: he looked like himself . . . if that even made sense. “Doesn’t matter. When Zeref is through—”

Natsu pulled up short, causing Lucy to crash into his back. She moved past him to the mouth of the alley where the department laid in a cul-de-sac. The windows were shattered, but otherwise it looked fine. Outside, stationed lazily against the sign, was God Serena. “You two sure took your time,” he said in his typical dramatic tone, flipping his hair. “I was almost tempted to let them all burn despite what Zeref said.”

“Let them burn?” she repeated, noticing Natsu’s sudden silence.

“He left it to me to incapacitate them and hold them over your head. I decided to set them up for an inferno, your preferred method of death.” He held up a box remote with a smirk. “There are explosives inside. When I press this button, your friends will have their big denouement.”

“And let me guess,” he said in a tone that was deathly quiet. “If I come quietly, Zeref’s going to let them go.”

“Not that simple,” he sang as if he was in an opera. He spun with arms extended before coming to a stop, his empty hand pointed at Lucy. “She has to be in there too, and the department blows either way.”

“Of course it does,” he worked through gnashed teeth. His eyes flashed with their intensity as his fists shook. “Of course, he’d want to teach me a lesson. He wants to _explode_ my friends, and wants me to come crawling with my tail between my legs afterward.”

“That’s the plan,” Serena said impassively.

“And if I try anything funny, the department blows either way . . . am I right?”

“Still correct.” Lucy glanced at Natsu and was surprised to find that his face had smoothed out.

“Where is Zeref now?”

“He and Larcade are waiting for you across town.”

“Why is that?”

“Are you coming or not?” he said instead, frowning with impatience. “He said not to rush you, but I’d rather not stand here all day.”

“Can’t I just shoot him?” Lucy said quietly.

“I wouldn’t place my luck on that,” Natsu and Serena said simultaneously. Serena continued with a smirk, “You should know, we both have excellent hearing, not to mention reflexes.”

“If they’re dying either way, what happens if _I_ don’t walk in there with them?”

“Then you deal with me out here,” he said simply. “Personally, I’m all for it—it makes for a much better action sequence.” She gritted her teeth, recalling how proficient of a fighter he was. She and Natsu were caught between a rock and one hell of a hard place.

“Natsu,” she said, “what happens now?”

Natsu raised a shoulder before stepping forward. “We don’t really have a choice, do we?” he said to her. “Do it, push the button.


	9. ix

Natsu knew that his brother wasn’t completely on the up-and-up, that he’d done some terribly things during their lives, but _that_. . . that was some next-level fucked up right there. And Zeref knew what he was doing, and he knew he could get away with it. No one, not law enforcement or karma or morality or even his goddamn brother, could stop him.

But not anymore. Natsu wouldn’t stand for it anymore, even if he died in the process. After all, he’d much rather die than know his friends died on his behalf for stupid reasons to begin with. He’d much rather die than have Zeref put him on a brainwashing-induced killing spree in the name of . . . whatever the hell Zeref stood for, Natsu didn’t have a frigging clue anymore. But Natsu understood Zeref, not that he was proud to say it, but he did, and he loved playing mind games.

“Push it,” Natsu insisted, pointing at the control box. “Because I know that there ain’t no damn explosives in there. As many toys as you get, you don’t have a shitload of C-4 on hand, and even Zeref can’t easily get so much in so little time, nor could he have foreseen all of this happening. He’s doing this just to screw with me.”

“Are you serious?” Lucy asked, looking between them.

“Well, he’s right,” God Serena said. “I don’t have _a shitload of C-4._ On the other hand, there’s a gas stove in the kitchenette, and a smaller explosive inside of it . . .”

 _And shit hits the fan,_ Natsu thought, digging his fingers into his scalp.

“Were you just trying to sound cool?”

“Not really, but . . . did it sound cool?” She punched his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “Oi, _you_ have any bright ideas?”

“Mph,” she huffed, grabbing him by the back of his shirt. He thought she was going to fling him forward, then he noticed she was tracing patterns into his back. Wait, not patterns, _letters_. _H-E L-I-K-E-S D-R-A-M-A-T-I-C-S. U-S-E T-H-A-T._ She yanked her hand back not a second later, crossing them over her chest. He was about to snap that no, Serena wouldn’t buy that, then he noticed movement coming from inside, through one of the smashed windows. Serena was facing them, so he couldn’t see as Jellal, Meredy, and Ultear—three people that walked the edge of the law just as much as Gajeel did—passed by, aiding Gray and Erza out. _Okay, I just need to buy them some time,_ he thought. _Appeal, appeal to his acting nature . . ._

“You want an action sequence, don’t you?” Natsu said to God Serena. “You can have that right now. Hell, I know _I_ don’t have any qualms about kicking your ass.”

“I could fight you, but I wouldn’t want to kill you—Zeref wouldn’t like that.”

“Kill _me?_ You’re joking.”

“Well, _I_ know over twenty combat styles and am proficient in over thirty weapons,” he continued. “And you?”

“I, uh . . . I won a hotdog eating contest one time,” he tried. “Okay, so I’m not as _good_ of a fighter as you, but I have . . . strengths of my own.”

“Is it the power of friendship?”

“What? No. What kind of stupidity is that? No, no.” Think, think . . . He wasn’t a thinker, but he needed to continue the distraction. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Jellal and the others were still working. “But this is usually the part where the hero starts giving their monologue about the villain’s big mistake and their weakness and all that.” Natsu’s words brightened God Serena’s face and easily caught his interest. “So, err . . .”

“You think you have him, but you don’t,” Lucy said while Natsu remained braindead. Big speeches were never his thing. “Because while I don’t know him personally, I’ve heard enough stories from his friends to believe he wouldn’t give up, not even in a situation as hopeless as this. His brain is too small to understand when he’s lost anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“He’s also reputed as being overly selfless to the point of risking what little brain cells he has left for something trivial,” she continued. He was getting a nagging feeling that her information came from Gray. “He never quite learned normal human lessons like _think before you act, restraint, common sense . . ._ But,” she said, and he almost took it to be an afterthought before he noticed the very intentional smile on her face, “being this way, Natsu has saved a lot of people, and I see that whatever side he’s on must be the right side. Consequently, whatever side Zeref on, which includes his affiliates, deserves less than even instant death.”

“. . . I see,” God Serena said eventually, pointing at Lucy. “She’s your leading lady, huh?” Lucy turned red with indignation while Natsu cocked his head to one side. “That wasn’t part of Zeref’s plan.” Something about his tone made shivers run up Natsu’s spine.

“What are you—”

Something long and black flicked out from his side and latched onto Lucy’s wrist, yanking her forward hard. She crashed into God Serena’s side and he untangled the weapon—a whip, it was, he untangled the whip from her, just to replace it with a knife to her throat. Fortunately, it was the flat end, but he was pressing it hard to her skin, his other hand holding her neck still. Her lips took on a bluish hue as she fought to catch her breath, punching and slapping at his chest.

“Lucy!” he growled, stepping forward, but Serena brandished the button again. His eyes went to the building—he couldn’t see movement anymore, but certainly Jellal would’ve given him a sign if things were all clear. He looked back at Lucy to see her tugging at the handle of the whip. Seeing him distracted, Natsu decided to help her cause by launching a nearby rock at his head. He moved out of the way, of freaking course, but his grip loosened enough for her to snatch the whip and jump backwards. Her next move had the box flying as the forked tip snapped at his hand.

“I’m also good with whips,” she smirked. Serena attempted to dive towards the box, but Natsu was already on it, rolling on the ground to grab it. At the same time, Lucy pinned his arms to his waist with the whip. He growled in anger and pulled free, snapping out dual wooden nunchaku. Her new weapon wasn’t close ranged enough to deal with them, and she was reduced to dodging his quick swipes, but more than once the impacts left large blossoms of bruises on her skin. Natsu came up from behind and managed to pull one away, but the next came across his face with all the power of a solid steel whip. He saw stars, he saw the whole freaking constellations. His arms came up instinctively as Serena swung again, and he used the handles of the stolen nunchaku to block.

Lucy snapped the whip out again, and this time it wrapped around God Serena’s neck. His next strike came up short of Natsu’s skull as he was yanked backwards and into Lucy’s hand, which latched onto his face and slammed him to the ground. He grabbed Lucy’s ankle and tugged her down as well, and in that move the gun came loose from her waistband and fell to the ground. Natsu flung the nunchaku out as Serena reached for it, and Lucy kicked his hand away, giving Natsu time to grab it. The two were back on their feet in a second, but this time Serena had Lucy’s wrists tangled with the whip, and his arm was clinched tightly around her neck.

“Shoot me, but you’ll have to bet on missing her,” he advised, holding Lucy’s head still. She gritted her teeth and gave him a certain look through narrowed eyes, but . . . he wouldn’t risk shooting her. Not as a stranger, and not as someone who he was beginning to consider a friend.

“Ah, who am I kidding,” he muttered, shaking his head. “She’s already a friend in my book.” He put his hands up. “Nope, not gonna shoot.”

“Frigging _moron!_ ” she said to him. Well, at least he was used to it.

“I’m not going to shoot. Zeref _wants_ me to kill her and everyone else so I’ll be all submissive and tame and come crawling back to him—why in hell would I do what he wants? I’m going to Zeref,” he said with certainty, “but it will be on _my_ terms, and none of my friends are gonna get hurt. You Spriggans, on the other hand, are _finished._ ”

_Bang!_

A bloody trail followed Serena to the ground that he collided into with a heavy thud, and fell still. Lucy staggered forward in surprise and Natsu caught her arm, steadying her. Looking off to the side, he saw that the shooter had been Gray. Bruises littered his arm and neck, with an especially large one on his forehead, but his usually icy face was hot with fury. “That’s what you get, motherfucker,” he growled. Then his eyes landed on Natsu, who put his hands up in surrender.

“I hope you’re not using that on me next.” To his surprise, Gray smirked, holstering the gun.

“And kill your last three brain cells?” Natsu was so relieved he could cry.

“Gray, leave him alone, would you?” Ultear came up and rested a hand on his shoulder. Then she nodded at Natsu. “You made some dangerous friends, Natsu Dragneel.”

“Trust me, they’re not friends. —Wait, Gray, why aren’t you shooting me? Not that I wanna be Swiss cheese, but I thought you hate my guts now?”

“I do,” he said almost earnestly. “But that God Serena character basically monologued your whole life story and Zeref’s work to us, so we know it’s not your fault.” He appeared a little bashful as he turned away. “But, as your best friend, I should’ve believed something was up from the start. I’m . . . sorry.”

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re melting all soft, Fullbuster.”

“The hell did you say, Dragneel?” Gray snapped. Natsu grinned—that was more normal.

“Where’s Erza and the others?”

“Jellal and Meredy got them away, in case the department detonated,” Ultear explained. “Gray fought to stay.”

“Then everyone is safe.” She nodded and Natsu sighed. “Good, cuz now, I’m heading out to kick Zeref’s ass. You got your cruiser’s keys?” Gray dropped them in Natsu’s waiting hand, which he clenched right after.

“Don’t get killed,” he warned. “You still have to prove to the town that you’re not a criminal, and you can’t do it if you’re dead.”

“’course,” he responded blithely. “Also, if any other of Zeref’s dumb cronies show their faces around here in the meantime—”

“We’ll handle them,” he assured Natsu. “They may have gotten the jump on us now, but nobody hurts Magnolia and gets away with it.” Natsu nodded and took a step back.

“I’m holding you to that, Ice Princess.”

“Just do your shit and come back, ash-for-brains,” Gray retorted as Natsu headed to the parking lot. Lucy followed behind him with a curious expression.

“What’s with the name calling?” she asked.

“It’s just something we do. I wouldn’t say it to his face, but it’s how I show I care about him, and I guess it’s the same on his end.” She didn’t appear to understand but he left it there. As he unlocked the door, he noticed her favoring her injured arm, not that her gouged hand was any better. “It’s still bleeding?”

“No, but it hurts like hell.”

“C’m’ere.” He tore some of his sleeve away and tied it around her palm. He gripped her arm hard to pry out the bullet’s shell, then wrapped it as well. “At least this’ll keep air from getting in it.”

“. . . Thanks,” she said eventually, staring even harder at him. He gave her a inquisitive look that she shook off and climbed into the passenger’s seat. He slid into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine. “Do you know where Zeref is?”

“I’ve got a sneaking suspicion,” he replied. “Put on the seatbelt.” She frowned.

“This isn’t the time to worry about driver’s safety—” Her words left her as Natsu floored it, the brakes screeching in protest as he swerved from the parking lot and onto the road. Her eyes locked on the speedometer, which was inching towards ninety in ten seconds. “Are you really so crazy as to speed through the center of Magnolia, with all the streets and buildings and _people_ around?” she hissed through her clenched teeth.

“I’m good at this kind of thing, don’t worry,” he said offhandedly. “Besides, time is the last thing I want to waste right now.”

As they came to an emptier neighborhood street, he slammed the brakes hard, and the sound felt like it echoed across Magnolia before the cruiser finally came to a stop. “You should get off here,” he told her. “Dealing with Zeref . . . That’s something I should do alone.”

“Are you kidding?” she said, spinning on the seat to face him with an incredulous expression. She pointed a finger right in his face and continued, “I’ve saved your ass quite a few times already. I don’t think you’d even make it to Zeref without falling on your face, you need so much help.”

“Excuse me?” he retorted.

“And you’re apparently going deaf too. It’s official: you’re hopeless.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” She sunk back into the chair and threw her hands up with a long-suffering sigh. Natsu was trying to find a snappy comeback when she glanced back at him from the corners of her eyes and frowned.

“Did you already forget that you’re not alone in this? Are you really that senile now?”

“I know I’m not alone . . . that’s what scares me,” he admitted, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned what. “Cuz you all can get hurt—you all _did_ get hurt, all because of Zeref’s psycho plan and _me._ I’m not trying to cause more damage than I already have.”

“Natsu, I’m in this field of work because I’m prepared for shit to hit the fan in the most violent and gruesome of ways,” Lucy countered. “And so, I assume, are Fullbuster, Scarlet, et cetera. Gray, who you regard as closest to you, doesn’t think any less of you for all this, and if I, as a stranger, don’t either, then I think you’re fine.”

His voice was strained now. “Lucy—”

“Also, when I took this job, it was with the intent of stopping any injustice. Whether it was my own father, embezzling funds from father-and-son storefronts and cheating his workers out of fair pay and fair treatment, or ending the largest crime ring of this turn of the decade . . . at the cost of my best friend’s life,” she said softly, her voice cracking a little. Her eyes shone for a moment before she blinked and composed herself, pushing a sweaty and dirty lock of hair behind her ear.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said eventually.

“My father had it coming, and Aquarius . . . wanted it that way. But that’s beside the point: I’m just giving you examples. I think you get it now.”

“Yes, I get it,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And I don’t like it, but . . . thanks.”

“You’re not bad at all, Salamander,” she remarked with a smile.

“I’m getting sick of that name though . . .” He started the car forward again, but at a more normal speed limit. He watched familiar buildings go by and took a deep breath. _This is it, this is gonna end everything, one way or another . . ._

“Where are we?” she asked. He didn’t answer right away, looking at the old stores and restaurants around them. Most of them had closed after so long, but the nostalgia remained. Finally, he came to a stop behind a boarded-up glass shop, turning the car off.

“We’re close enough to walk,” he said quietly. Lucy gave him an odd look and reached for the door before he stopped her. He popped open the glove compartment and pulled a gun out, handing it to her. “Just in case. We don’t know what’s inside.”

“Inside where, the glass store?”

“No.” He stepped outside and waited for her before turning onto the road. The dirt ended in a cul-de-sac, and he pointed to the large stone edifice at the end. “There . . . inside Fairy Tail.”

“Fairy Tail?” she echoed, looking over the castle-esque structure.

“It was like . . . a foster home, I guess? When I was younger and Igneel was working, I was here. It’s where I met Gray and Erza, who didn’t have the luxury of dropping in whenever—they didn’t have remaining family at all. Not to mention a lot of others . . . We were here under this nice old fart, Makarov, and most’ve us called him ‘Gramps,’ cuz he was just so much like family to us. We became a family of our own after a while. He owned the place, but the one who had it designed and all was this girl, Mavis, who—”

“I know her,” Lucy interrupted. “She was with Zeref when I first met him.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Zeref really likes her . . . about as much as he’s capable of liking another living being, anyway. But she’s more content to let him do what he wants. Twisted love, I guess.” But he was stalling. “If I know my brother at all, he’s in there waiting.”

“Why there specifically?”

“It’s another part of his stupid mind games: sullying my good memories of this place with his stupid fucking miserable—” He shook his head, cutting himself off, and took a deep breath.

“You ready to face your demons?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“I asked myself that a few times already, and my answer’s solid: no way in hell. But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he grimaced. “For the town, and for my friends, I want to beat _that_ demon down.” He moved forward, and with heavy hands, Natsu pushed the doors of Fairy Tail open.


	10. x

Since they were young, Natsu knew his brother was different, not just from himself, but from all the others their age. Zeref was smart, and his brains earned him prestige in school, adoration from adults, and all the praises he could want. But . . . he never wanted praise.

_“Zeref, what are you doing?” Natsu asked, stopping in the open door of their bedroom. Zeref’s back was to him as he fiddled with something on his lap, and when he turned to greet Natsu with a smile, his face was red with blood._

_“Look, brother, what I’ve discovered.” He spun around and held out a kitten, whose orange and yellow fur was matted with blood. Then he pulled it apart, revealing its bared innards. Natsu covered his mouth and stepped away. Zeref kept talking, but all he could manage was to keep his lunch down._

_“Zeref, w . . . why would you do that?” he managed after a while. Zeref stopped mid-sentence and cocked his head to one side._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“This is . . . sick. It’s wrong. This was a living creature just like you and me—”_

_“No, this creature was below us,” he interjected calmly. “Not as smart, and not as evolved. Therefore, I concluded it could serve a better purpose as a research subject.”_

_Natsu shook his head. “Zeref, you’re . . .”_

_“You don’t understand,” he protested in the same soft voice. He looked at the mutilated cat with . . . sorrow? “I was hoping, maybe, within this feline, I could find my own answers, but I haven’t had the luck yet. Maybe . . . you can help me?”_

Fairy Tail’s center was designed like a big lounge area. There were lunch tables, a stage, and a bar, all of which being devoid of life save for one man. Zeref was sitting on a bench, arms crossed expectantly. “That look in your eyes . . . I suppose my plan didn’t work?” he said, observing Natsu.

“You’re damn right it didn’t,” he growled, fists clenched. “You know what, Zeref? You’ve always been pushing boundaries, ever since we were kids. Doing this— _all_ of this—is the last straw.”

“Then kill me,” he said plainly. “Do it.”

“No,” he responded shortly. “Because that’d be what you want, and you never reward a kid for throwing a temper tantrum. I’m gonna beat some sense back into you, and hopefully . . .” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, I don’t know what’ll happen afterwards, but that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it—unless you freaking burn it first.”

“The only one _burning_ in this case is you, Natsu.”

“And you’re right,” he said with a tense smile before lunging forward. “Burning with anger!”

A body flashed out between them and Natsu was roughly shoved backwards. He growled as he met Larcade’s cool eyes, but the exchange wasn’t for too long as Lucy shouldered him out of the way. He stumbled in surprise before she landed a kick in his gut, throwing him back towards the doors. She gave Natsu an encouraging smirk and he grinned in return.

“You found a girl,” Zeref said. “I’m surprised, brother. But she won’t fare well against Larcade.”

 “You’d be surprised how strong Lucy is. Kicked my ass fairly well, despite your oh so amazing brainwash—I mean _conditioning,_ ” he said, vitriol dripping from his words. Zeref finally stood with a sigh, stepping forward. He still wore his white sash, but now it was tied over an old-fashioned gold-embroidered black coat. Now that Natsu was paying attention, he noticed that his own borrowed clothes held the same black, white, and gold color scheme. “You’re just going to stand there?” Natsu snapped as Zeref made no further moves. He gave a world-weary sigh and closed his eyes.

“I don’t like the idea of fighting my brother, my twin brother on top of that,” he confessed before his voice abruptly rose in volume. “But if that’s what must happen by fate’s design, then I don’t have a choice.” He was close enough that Natsu could feel his breath on his face, especially since they were the same height. He raised his fist and decked Zeref across the face. His head snapped to the side and a bit of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he regarded Natsu passively. “You’ll have to try harder than that,” he said blankly.

“I am.” He grabbed Zeref by the collar and threw him backwards. He crashed into the bar hard enough to displace the wooden paneling. He exhaled as he ran a hand down the back of his head, and it came back spotty with blood. Still, his eyes were perfectly aware as he glanced back at Natsu.

“You can’t hurt me,” he said, “let alone kill me.”

“I’m not _trying_ to _kill_ you, you fucking idiot!” He slammed his foot into the paneling just parallel of Zeref’s head. Then he hauled Zeref up by his lapels. “ _Look!_ I want you to look and see the damage you and your—your twisted frigging brain have caused to everyone around you!”

“I know the damage I’ve done,” he said coolly, his eyes as dark and bottomless as space itself. “I don’t care . . . or rather, I can’t bring myself to.” Suddenly he was alive again, grabbing Natsu’s wrists and prying them away with a newfound strength. Natsu was twisted around and hurled into the shelves of the bar. Glasses exploded as he collided with the wall, raining shards over them. He felt more than a few of those shards embed themselves in his back, and as he landed on the ground, they dug even deeper into his skin. He gave a pained shout and forced himself to his feet again—right for Zeref to grab a fistful of his hair and slam his face down into the countertop. The wood split upon impact, as did his lip.

“As I’ve said,” Zeref continued, “you can’t hurt me, let alone kill me. You’re too benevolent for that. Therefore, I have the Salamander.”

“It’s why you _made_ me Salamander,” he corrected irately. “Just another display that you don’t care about human lives.”

“Why should I?” he suddenly snapped, eyes flashing. The true scarlet of his irises shone in the Guild’s overhead lights as a vein bounced within his jaw. “For all of my love, a human will die. Our parents did, Mavis is suffering a slow and diseased death, and Igneel burned to death, Natsu. That’s the cost of my care, and it’s not worth it. _I’m_ not worth it.” He latched onto Natsu’s forearm and judo flipped him to the ground again, but on his face rather than his mutilated back. “Which is why you should kill me and get it over with, rather than try to save a soul that’s no longer there.”

“What, do you think I’m already crawling on your level?” Natsu sneered as he kicked both feet, knocking Zeref’s legs out from other him. He quickly scrambled forward and pinned his wrists to the ground. “I may be a little skewed in the brain, but I’m not so bad that I’d want to kill my own brother.”

“That’s a shame,” Zeref said honestly. “More than ever, I want to be facing the Salamander. Bring that one out instead.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t!” he growled. A glint appeared in Zeref’s eyes as his replying smile edged insanity.

“So you cannot . . . That’s a curious thing indeed.” He pushed forward and Natsu was startled to see that their positions were now reversed, he on the ground and Zeref staring down at him scornfully. “You’re not a bad person, brother, and no harsh feelings, but at this moment, I need Natsu Dragneel gone.” His hands left Natsu’s wrists and went to his neck, and he promptly began squeezing.

“Wha—leh—leggo—Zerf—” Natsu choked out, grabbing his lower arms and pushing back. Zeref persisted, his grip tightening by the second until large black spots filled Natsu’s vision. The red of Zeref’s eyes was all he could see after a moment, and he was sinking, sinking . . .

“ _NO!_ ” he roared, slamming his foot into Zeref’s gut. He went rolling across the ground before slamming into a support pillar hard enough that it gave a warning groan. Natsu pulled himself to his feet, his eyes alight with hellfire as he cracked his neck, rubbing out the forming bruises. Zeref sat up with a cough, clenching his abdomen as his eyes narrowed.

“You’re not the Salamander.”

“And if I have say in it— _which I should_ —I’ll never be him again,” he said in a low tone of warning. “There’s only one guy that should have this face, and it’s Natsu Dragneel. If you don’t like it, tough shit, _brother._ ” The word, while indulgent coming from Zeref, was said scornfully and with as much contempt as he could muster. Then he gave a slow and deliberate smile, yet with all the malevolence of a criminal. “But I do think the Salamander was onto something there—you know, as arson-crazy as he is.” He cracked his bloody knuckles and gave a dark chuckle. “I’m all fired up now.”

* * *

Larcade rolled across the dirt before he quickly regained his bearings, switching to his feet and using a hand to slow his movement. “Move out of the way,” he advised Lucy, who stood in the doors of Fairy Tail.

“Not a chance, Blondie,” she retorted, cocking the gun. “You’d have to kill me first.”

“That’s an idea,” he said with an eerily serene smile. The longer Lucy stared into his eyes, the odder she felt. Then, as she tried looking away, she found she couldn’t do so. Not that she was being forced to maintain eye contact, but she felt too relaxed, and breaking eye contact over a sensation sounded a little absurd. But as she stared, she found her body relaxing even more, so much that her knees buckled and she fell forward to the ground. She could finally look away, but it didn’t mean much when it became a huge struggle to keep her eyes open. Larcade’s feet looked slanted as he stepped up to her, and she felt the cold steel of a knife against the back of her neck.

_Move, move, move!_

She rolled over for all her effort, but the knife left a long slice rather than completely beheading her, so she considered it a plus. She remembered why she was fighting and used that thought to give her strength. She checked Larcade with her elbow, forcing him back, and leapt into a crouch.

“You overpowered my R.I.P.,” he said, astounded. “—Not totally, it seems,” he added as Lucy listed to one side. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, reviving her senses.

“What in hell was that?” she asked, her voice still husky.

“Father calls it suggestion . . . I like to think of it as my own personal magic.” He searched her eyes before letting out an exhale, apparently changing plans. “And I have more than one.” She intended to look away, but his gaze caught her yet again. An odd tingling sensation started in her torso, then focused to a gnawing in her stomach that quickly grew to tear-inducing levels, even for her. She clenched her belly as she fell onto her side, curling into a tight ball.

“H . . . Hungry,” she moaned, pulling her body as small as it could go. It felt as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, or years. She could barely think or see straight anymore, which all fell under Larcade’s intentions.

He descended on her with the knife again, but she had the common sense to have already drawn her gun. Her shot missed with her lack of focus, but he was startled backwards, allowing her a little more time to recollect her thoughts. _Little_ was the key word, though, and she had barely uncurled when his hand slashed down her front. A long gash surfaced around her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, and on top of the pain she already had, it took all of her self-control not to scream in pain. She did tip forward though, throwing her hands out to brace herself on impact, and Larcade’s heel came down on her hand—the injured one at that. Then she couldn’t stop from shouting out.

“You should know something before your journey ends here.” He fisted his hand in her hair and jerked her head up so abruptly it sent a bolt of pain through her scalp. His face was dark and twisted with maniacal anger. “I don’t like others messing with Father’s designs.”

“Funny . . . you should mention that,” Lucy wheezed, bringing up her gun. “I don’t . . . like . . . either.”

She pulled the trigger on Larcade, forcing him to release her. Her shoulders and side hit the ground hard, but she was pleased at seeing a bloody trail following him as he moved backwards, but she couldn’t see the injury’s location. “You’ve . . . hurt me,” he said softly, staring at the blood leaking from his body. She cracked a smile as she pressed her arm to her own injury.

“No shit . . . Sherlock.”

“You’ve hurt me,” he repeated, baffled. “No . . . Father promised that I couldn’t—” He cut himself off and glared at her. She swallowed as she expected another sleeping spell, and in her condition, she would’ve been powerless to fight back, but . . . nothing happened. At least, nothing she noticed right away. He didn’t hypnotize her into thinking she had three arms or something like that. Still, she was immobilized, and . . . was there an odd feeling in her legs? It was as if something was crawling up them, and she couldn’t move her heavy arms to bat it away. The feeling went up her waist, around her torso and compressed her chest.

Things weren’t that bad until a few seconds later.

Lucy knew that sex could be a weapon—a big example: rape—but _good gods above,_ that Larcade was something else. Starting from her legs and up to her breasts where the crawling feeling was earlier, there came the tear-inducing white noise of _pleasure._ Yeah, that was the only word to describe it. She couldn’t move—hell, she didn’t _want_ to move—and could only remain there as her eyes rolled back and she gaped stupidly with erratic moans coming out every few seconds.

“Humans all fall subject to the same three vices.” She was faintly aware of Larcade’s voice resonating around her. “Sleeping, eating, and pleasure. My father taught me to take advantage of those things and use them to remove any opponents.” His words made little to no sense however—her mind was still exploding from the many facets of pleasure lighting her nerve endings. It was like a never-ending orgasm, a bit reminiscent of the one longtime boyfriend she’d had. Pleasure . . . sex. He had suggested within her mind the idea of sex—he hypnotized her with the idea of sex. _That_ was something she never thought she’d say, especially since she was usually the one hypnotizing others.

_This is going to be the death of me. I need to—break free!_

It was easier said than done though. She played mind-games with criminals often enough, but not one that could be taken in such a literal sense. She was helpless to forces outside of her body as she writhed on the ground like a cat in heat watching Larcade head back towards Fairy Tail. She lifted the gun, but couldn’t hold her hand steady enough to aim at him. She turned back to her body and grabbed at her skin, as if the feeling could be removed through sheer physical strength. Hypnotism was all in the mind, so if she believed she could overpower Larcade, then she could. Oddly enough, she did feel something solid, sort of like a . . . tentacle? Well, at least her mind was working.

“Grr,” she growled as she pulled it away. Her skin was red and raw in the aftermath, but it worked. She felt two more on her body, but just the one was enough to focus her eyes, and her next bullet snapped at Larcade’s feet. He stumbled backwards automatically and she seized his ankle, wrenching him to the ground. He growled and clutched a leg of the cross pinned to his kasaya, slamming it down between them. She pushed herself backwards and let the blade of it cut away a second tentacle, allowing her to roll away and to her feet. He matched her movement and launched the cross like a boomerang. From such a close distance, she couldn’t avoid it entirely, and it slashed a deep wound into her left forearm on top of the one on her chest. She hissed, but only allowed herself a moment of grimacing before snapping her arm out and firing again. The proximity worked in her favor as well, and the bullet embedded in Larcade’s abdomen near his chest.

“Dirty—” he hissed, eyes squinted with pain as he clenched the injury. His kasaya shifted, and Lucy saw that her shot earlier landed in his chest near his heart. It wasn’t close enough to damage, but it surely had his ribcage filling with blood. The fact that he was still up and fighting proved his durability—and Zeref’s crazy treatment of his lackeys. But it helped put into perspective how insane the man was, if he could experiment on not only his brother, but his son too.

“You made two big mistakes here, ass,” Lucy said, steadying herself. “You messed with _me,_ and you messed with Natsu—turned all his friends and the city against him. He’s slow . . . damn slow . . . but way too nice of a guy for that. You brought undue punishment on an innocent, and _that’s_ what I hate most in the world.”

“You—” Larcade’s hand snapped out, maybe towards her neck, maybe towards her face, she wasn’t sure, but at that moment she felt the wind displace, and she dove to the side to avoid the cross as it rebounded back towards them. Larcade caught a leg of it in an easy practiced movement, and in the same motion he was up and rushing her with a wild, demented war cry.

“And as a side note,” she said as she rose to her feet, swaying a bit from side to side as she holstered the gun, “I’m getting far more pleasure from the idea of killing you than you could give me, Larcade Dragneel.”

She spun around and roundhouse kicked him right in the chest. He gagged, coughing up a long stream of blood as he fell flat on his back, the cross getting launched into the air. Lucy leapt back as gravity eventually pulled it down and it stuck point-first into Larcade’s stomach. He growled weakly at the projectile, but his hands shook as he attempted to grab it, and eventually his eyes slid shut and his body fell limp.

“Can you . . . forgive me for . . . f-failing you, Father?” he whispered into the breeze, his words almost as faint as the wind itself. Lucy tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she regarded his lifeless form lying on the ground. She eventually knelt and, with a bit of effort, wrenched the cross from him and laid it in its proper stance on his chest.

“I don’t think you deserved this fate any more than Natsu did,” she said quietly, letting out a shaky exhale. She sat down, then her body gave up on her and she fell on her back, staring at the red and pink sky and the setting sun against the distant buildings of Magnolia.

_I’ve done my part here, Natsu, so you do yours._

* * *

“Have you had enough now, Natsu?”

“Never!” Natsu growled, swiping a hand across his mouth before spitting on the ground. A great glob of blood and saliva came out, plus a big piece of some tooth, but he wasn’t finished yet. His head spun, he could barely see Zeref through his black eye, and every limb felt weighed down with iron, but he wasn’t finished, not until he was lying dead on the floor. He ran forward, and his shaking fist was clutched by Zeref idly, and Natsu was yet again hurled to the floor, this time on his shredded back.

“I told you, I’d rather not be fighting you, brother,” he said resignedly, folding his arms across his chest. “You can stop anytime you want. You’ll be punished, but you won’t be killed.”

“Killed? Certainly not by you!” he said with a derisive bark of laughter. “Now man up and fight me seriously, damn it!” He rolled away from the center of pain and pushed himself to his feet. Zeref caught his hand again, even easier than before, and tugged Natsu close, so close that their noses nearly touched.

“Do you remember the first one you killed?” he asked quietly, his eyes more black than red. Natsu’s own jade ones were wide with alarm. “Deliora?”

“Let go of me,” he growled, but Zeref’s grip was like iron.

“He killed Gray’s parents when he was very young, and returned for Gray himself during recess. Gray saw him and froze in fear. You saw it and went to protect your friend, of course. What stuck out to me was that you had no mercy on this man, even as a criminal. You were always benevolent, too childish to hold any real grudges, but against Deliora . . . you tore out his throat with your nails, like a real animal.”

“Stop,” he warned, but his voice was weaker as the memories flooded him. _Blood, blood staining my skin, won’t come out, don’t touch me, you’ll get bloody too—_

“You saved Gray doing it too. A life for a life—that’s how this world works, brother. All I did was open your eyes to that universal logic.”

“What kind of jacked-up logic is that? As far as I’m concerned, _no one_ should die! That Deliora creep would’ve been better off spending his life in a dank cell, doing nothing but thinking of what he’s done for the rest of his days. Death is . . . easy.”

“There’s nothing easy about death, Natsu. Not for anyone on any side of it.” When Zeref said that, he didn’t look like a crazed scientist, or a manipulator, or a sad shell of a person: he looked so utterly human, dejected and miserable and all, with his eyes downcast and his head bowed a little. He looked . . . he looked . . .

 _“For all of my love, a human will die. Our parents did, Mavis is suffering a slow and diseased death, and Igneel burned to death, Natsu. That’s the cost of my care, and it’s not worth it._ I’m _not worth it.”_

“It gets better when you have friends to help you through. _Friends,_ Zeref—do you still know what those are? They exist, even for people like you . . . should you choose to let them in.”

“Why? Who is left to be my friend when the universe has already rejected me?” he spat bitterly, the pools of blood in his eyes coming to a furious boil. Natsu had barely opened his mouth to reply when Zeref’s knee came up into the left side of his ribcage, fracturing a lot but most certainly breaking a couple, then he elbowed Natsu in the side of his neck. He covered his mouth but couldn’t stop the coughed stream of blood and saliva that spewed through his fingers. It was nearly impossible to breathe, then it truly became impossible when Zeref seized his neck, squeezing and lifting him at the same time. Natsu’s eyes bugged from the force he used, and he fought to take a breath.

“Z-Zer—” he hissed before Zeref tightened his grip even more. Natsu squirmed and threw a kick, trying to break free. Zeref’s other hand grabbed his leg, then he flipped him head over heels, Natsu landing on his head. He had never had a concussion before, but that felt like the real deal. His vision blacked out for an indefinite amount of time, and when he blinked back to reality, he was watching Zeref’s retreating back. “W . . . What are you doing?” he growled, bracing his hands on the wood.

“Larcade should be finishing up by now as well,” he replied brusquely, as if all was normal. He hissed at the implication and attempted to lunge before falling flat on his belly again. He was reduced to crawling, his legs too wobbly to work, his head spinning all over the place, and he was lying on his broken ribs. “You don’t quit, do you?” Zeref sighed. “Must I really kill you over this? It would be a waste of years of effort.”

“That’s all you care about, is it?” he wheezed as Zeref turned, cringing as his ribs flared up. Every last inch of his skin was burning with agonizing fire—the greatest fight wasn’t against Zeref, but with his own body, fighting to stay conscious and alive. If he passed out, Zeref would kill him, or worse, kill his friends. So he had to crawl forward, even if it wasn’t getting him anywhere—it was the best he could do.

“No.” Zeref bent down and, gripping Natsu tightly by the forearms, jerked him to his feet. He would’ve fallen down immediately if Zeref hadn’t kept his grasp. Then he pulled Natsu close, wrapping his arms around his sore muscles and open wounds. He gritted his teeth at the pain, but gasped a little with surprise. “I love you, Natsu.”

“Zeref—”

_Bang!_

Natsu was aware of his missing gun milliseconds before a new pain hit him. It wasn’t sharp like the other pains, more numbing, and the numbness spread with each beat of his heart. He knew he was shot, but couldn’t even tell where anymore: all he was aware of was the coldness of the ground and the soggy feeling of his clothes, now stained with his blood. The numbness took over, and his last breath came out shaky.

_Is this what dying feels like?_

_. . ._

_I’m not going to die here. I—_

_—I can’t die here! But—but—_

_Only the “Salamander” can kill Zeref, right? I can’t turn into that guy, not again, even if he is me. Then again . . ._

_Well, “he” is_ me.

He had just enough energy to stand one more time, even if he was panting and wheezing from the effort. Zeref stood up to him, undaunted, as was expected of him. He stood face-to-face with his brother, cool red to flaming green, then perplexed red as Zeref found the gun out of his hand and pointed at him. “You said only the Salamander can kill you.”

“Then you are—?” he said with a boyish gasp of excitement. The sound sickened him on some core level, but he choked down his feeling to cock the gun. Gray often called him “squinty-eyes,” but he probably would’ve been surprised to see his eyes narrowed to predatory slits right then.

“I’m _me,_ ” he supplied in a low, controlled voice. “And as me, let alone as a police officer, I often have to do things I don’t want to . . . this being one of them.” He frowned, and his intact eye glistened with unshed tears.

“Do it, then!” he said eagerly, too eagerly. Now that Natsu thought about it, it was the first time he saw Zeref truly smile. His hand shook like it never did before. His brother, his own flesh and blood . . . what would Igneel think? He bit his lip hard enough to restart the bleeding, wondering if he was doing the right thing, but it seemed fate would make the right choice for him.

“. . . Natsu?” Zeref said softly as the gun dropped from loose fingers, clattering between them. Even without that extra weight, Natsu’s legs gave in, and his knees buckled for what would be the last time. Zeref fell with him, catching Natsu to soften the impact a bit, but his face was swimming in his blurring peripheral. Something wet dripped on his forehead—Zeref’s tears? “And another falls to my curse,” he whispered wretchedly, the last thing Natsu heard before his eyes shut.


	11. xi

Pale feet and light, floaty hair . . . was it an angel? More like a fairy. He was in Fairy Tail, wasn’t he? The fairy danced into view, and soft hands were on his face, caressing so gently that he barely felt any pain on his numerous injuries.

“Zeref . . . you’ve done this to him, your brother?” Her voice had a wavy, dreamlike quality to it. That was what it was, right: a dream? He hoped it was one, something to placate him before death.

. . . He was dying. Now he remembered.

“He asked for it, Mavis,” he replied, his voice thick with sorrow. Zeref sad—now Natsu _knew_ he was dreaming for sure. If he had to have one last dream, must it be of his brother and his girl? There were a million better things to dream of, like Igneel, or socking Gray, or Lucy . . . Was she okay? He hoped he at least staved Zeref off long enough for her to escape.

“Natsu is smart, he wouldn’t ask for all of _this._ Look at what you’ve done to their home, Zeref! How can you live with yourself? —Oh, right,” she added with a bitter note.

“I just want to die, Mavis . . . He was my last hope.” Mavis’ hands stilled, then pulled away as she rose, the hem of her pastel pink dress fluttering out of his stiff peripheral.

“Why do you wish to die so badly?”

“Because, if not for me, the world would be so much better . . . And I could be with you as long as we want.”

“Is that really what you want?” she asked quietly.

“It is,” he replied in a more fervent voice than Natsu’s ever heard from him. _Dreaming, dreaming . . ._

“Zeref, I’ve had a time limit on my life since birth. You’re the literal opposite: your time limit is indefinite. Please, don’t waste that, and not for my sake.”

“Mavis, _everything_ is for your sake! A life without you, no matter how eternal, would be the universe’s cruelest joke yet,” he pleaded. “Please. If you love me as much as I do, then you’ll do me this one last mercy.”

“. . .”

“Please, Mavis.”

“. . . I do love you, Zeref. But _Romeo and Juliet,_ it’s a bit cliched, isn’t it?” There was a bit of movement, but Natsu’s vision was darkening all over again. _So, this is it._ “Then again, I think we’ve both overstayed our welcome in this world.”

“I couldn’t have said it better.”

_“To die, to sleep—to sleep, perchance to dream—aye, there's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come . . .”_

* * *

“No, no, no, I don’t believe it! Lemme go, fucking let me go before I bash your fucking pretty boy face in, Fullbuster!”

Lucy hadn’t explored the hospital too much in the few hours she’d been awake, but eventually she was roused by familiar screams from down the hall. She was told by Erza Scarlet, who watched over her with the eerie vigilance of a stone gargoyle, that she and Natsu had been found in the Fairy Tail home, both in critical condition. Alongside them were three bodies: that of Larcade Dragneel, his father Zeref, and Zeref’s woman, Mavis Vermillion.

_“Where did she come from?” Lucy asked._

_“We don’t know. We don’t even know why it took her so long to arrive, if she’s always so aware of Zeref’s movements,” Erza said with a shrug. “We did some research on her afterwards. It seems she was born with a terminal disorder, to bleed on the inside until she finally passed.”_

_“Maybe then, she chose to die with the one she loves rather than under fate’s circumstances,” Lucy speculated. “That’s something to think about . . .”_

_“But are you feeling alright?”_

_“I don’t feel as shitty as before, I can say that.” She sighed and propped her chin up on her good hand. “This whole thing still feels like one crazy dream. —Hey, is Natsu alright?” Erza, frigging Erza, winced at that. “What, is there something wrong with him?” she demanded, her voice cracking a bit with worry._

_“He didn’t wake up yet,” she told Lucy. “Zeref did a lot of damage. When we found him, he was seconds away from cardiac arrest.”_

_“No,” she whispered, feeling like her heart had stopped._

_“It was by pure luck that the paramedics came in time, and right now, we’re all playing a waiting game.” She shook her head miserably, crossing her arms over her chest. “We should’ve looked into his crimes more, rather than took things at face value. We should’ve believed Natsu would never endanger innocents like that—then, maybe, we would’ve been a step ahead of Zeref.”_

_“Zeref_ wanted _you to underestimate him—that’s the kind of manipulator he . . . was. And nobody could’ve foreseen all of this._ I _still barely believe it, and I was there!” She sighed and scrubbed at her eyes. “It’s over, isn’t it?”_

_“There are more Spriggans out there,” Erza said, “but if they dare come to Magnolia, we’ll be ready this time.” Lucy nodded silently without looking up. Erza surprised her by taking her good hand, clasping it tightly in both of hers. They were calloused and strong, and her eyes hardened seriously as she gazed at Lucy. “On behalf of the Magnolia Police Department, and of his friends, I thank you for trying as hard as you did to help Natsu. If not for you, we would be dead and Zeref would still be at large.”_

_“I just did my job, Lieutenant . . . Erza.”_

_“You went beyond the call of duty,” she insisted._

_“Well, when you put it like that, you’re welcome, I suppose,” Lucy said with a small smile which Erza returned._

She stopped at an open door to see Gray making his best attempt to pin Natsu back to a hospital bed, even though he had already been strapped to it. (She wondered if it was a precaution, or if he had woken earlier and she just missed it.) He had already knocked over the IV stand, and looked to be on the verge of ripping off his neck brace to get a better angle on Gray. His eyes flitted to her, then narrowed.

“You can tell me the truth, right, Lucy?” Gray turned, eyebrows raised as he saw her. She shot him a brief smile, then returned her gaze to Natsu. His head was bandaged, as well as his left eye, and there was a gauze patch on the other cheek that was getting spotty with blood as they spoke, probably from his stress. Past the hospital clothes, she could see even more bandages around his tensed muscles. _Zeref really did a number on him . . ._ “Lucy?” he urged as she remained silent.

“About what?” she asked eventually.

“Zeref.” The name was a growl, a hiss, and a worried whisper all at once. Gray’s shoulders fell as he sighed, and Lucy shook her head slowly.

“Lieutenant . . . Erza told me he didn’t make it, neither him nor Mavis.”

She thought he would scream. She thought he would pitch another fit. Instead, Gray released him as he abruptly fell back against the pillows. “Not a dream,” he murmured, gazing out the window with an expression devoid of all life. His eyes fell shut and he let out an obnoxiously loud, yet real, snore.

“He’s the same,” Gray said with a soft snort, moving away. Lucy noticed he was in civilian clothes, the first time she’d seen him like that. He wore a tight black turtleneck and grey pants tucked into lace-up hiking boots, and there was a white coat thrown over the visitor’s chair. “You’re okay?” he asked her. She shrugged a shoulder and inspected her casted hand.

“Could be worse. Could be like him.”

“That’s not an answer.” But he saw her attention was taken and left the matter alone. “Well, he’s no more manic than usual,” Gray sighed. “It just caught me off guard. One minute, he was fast asleep, and the next, he was screaming like a crazy man. Natsu’s an idiot, but the good kind—I guess, after all’s said and done, he really can’t hate his brother for what he did.”

“I would,” Lucy said honestly.

“And that’s the difference between us and him.”

“One of them, anyway,” she said, and they shared a short laugh over it. Natsu snorted and mumbled something about an ice pick, then rolled over and returned to sleep. “I can’t believe I got mixed up in all of his mess,” she said incredulously, staring at him. “When I thought this would be a simple one-week job . . .”

“Nothing’s ever simple with Natsu around, but—and you’ll pay if he hears this—but that’s why we love having him around. Although, I’m a little worried that this will damage him. It would damage any normal person,” he muttered.

“You’re forgetting that Natsu is stronger than a normal person,” Lucy smirked. “He may be a bit upset, but not for long. I believe in his resiliency. Now, would you care to escort an injured lady to the cafeteria?”

“There’s a lady around here?” he joked, earning a raised eyebrow from her.

“C’mon, hotshot.”

* * *

Natsu woke up to an empty room. He felt groggy, drugged up to high heaven, but his brain was still whirring even if his body couldn’t keep up. He brought a hand to his face, scrubbing at his good eye with a groan, and tried to move his other hand before the IV needle stopped him.

“Zeref,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “An’ Mavis. Aw, shit.”

“It’s disappointing, but it happened.”

He opened his eyes again to see Lucy leaning in the doorframe. She was wearing a normal blue and white top with a matching blue miniskirt, but there still wasn’t much visible skin with the bandages on her. They were thickest around her chest, and one of her hands was covered in a golden cast. “Thanks,” he said as she walked into the room.

“Just did my job, Dragneel,” she said, waving it off. He shook his head and tried to sit up.

“No, really.”

“Natsu, it’s okay,” she insisted, sitting next to the bed. He propped his back up against the headrest with a sigh. “The fact that Zeref died with the one he loves means he does feel, at least a little,” she supplied.

“A little,” he agreed. “But I’m afraid all that was for—for freaking nothing!” he growled, clenching his fists before bringing a hand up to his hair. “I fought so hard for what?”

“For yourself,” Lucy said softly. “And to protect those close to you.”

“But I couldn’t protect my _family._ ”

“To be honest,” she said, her nose wrinkling in disgust, “for what he’s done, I’d barely consider him family. You, on the other hand, are too nice to shun people like that, and I envy you for that. But you’ll recover—I have confidence in that.” It took a moment, but she stood and sat at the foot of the bed, carefully avoiding his foot. A few of the bones there had been fractured, and it was braced to aid the healing process.

“Since you’re also so nice that your priority is a dead criminal, I’ll fill in the rest of the blanks for you.” She folded her arms and looked away from him, instead focusing on pinned-up scans of his X-rays. Some of them really looked like shit, even to his medicinally-untrained eye. “You’ve been in a medical coma for two and a half weeks so your body could heal. The MPD—which is also still standing, all officers included, thanks to you—had almost lost one of its best hands.”

He gripped his chest, feeling his heart twinge with an abrupt and painful beat.

“And yeah, your heart,” she said without even looking over. “Out of all your physical injuries, that may be worse. Have you heard of takotsubo cardiomyopathy? Don’t worry, I haven’t either until today. It’s colloquially called _broken heart syndrome._ Maybe because of the stress on your body, your heart is working even harder. They have to keep an eye on it in case it elevates into something more serious. That’s also not including your jacked foot, slipped disk—generally mutilated back, optic nerves, concussion—”

“Lucy, I get it,” he hissed, dropping his hands to grip the sheets. She finally looked at him, and her forehead was wrinkled from her distraught expression.

“There aren’t many people outside of my family that I consider friends,” she said in a softer voice. “Very little, actually. Somehow, you wormed your way into that circle. Natsu, I _care_ about you now, just like everyone else does. And that’s scaring me.”

“I tend to scare people,” he said with a small grin. She turned away, but not before he saw her smile.

“I’m lucky I don’t have to deal with that personality of yours for a while.”

He sighed and looked towards the window. Magnolia Hospital looked out on the city, which felt far too peaceful after everything they’ve been through. “What happens now on your end?” he asked without looking at her. “You go back to the agency or whatever?”

“Actually, I think this was my last job.” His head snapped back towards her in time to catch her poignant smile. “I have some loose ends to tie up, then I’ll quit. This whole debacle reminded me of how short life can be, and I want to get one big childhood dream of mine out of the way before my life gets cut.”

“Which is?” he asked when curiosity got the better of him.

“Writing. Hey,” she said in response to his baffled expression, “I’ve gotten a lot of good stories these past couple of years, this one especially. I don’t think I’ll ever forget you for this, Natsu Dragneel. It’ll be especially hard since I’ll be staying in Magnolia to get that writing done.”

“So you’ll still be around to pester me, is that it?” he jested.

“That’s one reason,” Lucy responded, sweeping away a lock of hair from her face. “All of you are interesting, really. I get the feeling there won’t be a dull moment around here, and I want to witness it all.”

“Well then, more power to you.”

“And you?” Lucy said. “What happens when you’re all better?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “I’m kinda a heat-of-the-moment guy. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, and as it seems, it’s still pretty far off.”

“Don’t say that. Time often creeps up on you when you least expect it.”

“I rest assured in the fact that as of now—well, the day of my discharge—I still have plenty of it,” he grinned. “And anyone can tell you I don’t waste a single second. Every moment of every day’s my adventure.” Lucy laughed aloud, and he liked the way it made her eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush with joy. “No Salamander, just twenty-four/seven bona-fide Natsu Dragneel.”

“And who knows?” she said with that same gleam in her eyes, a self-assured smirk on her lips. “Maybe we’ll find an adventure with each other, another day.” He smirked back, letting the rays of early morning light cut between them, not like a knife, but as illumination of a new path.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “And I look forward to that day, too.”


End file.
